


Ours is the fury

by Nikelaos



Series: Ours is the fury [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Gendrya - Freeform, Post-Season/Series 08 Finale, being a lady, come back home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-06-24 15:47:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 33,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19726765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nikelaos/pseuds/Nikelaos
Summary: After five years, Arya comes back to Westeros for realize a somone's desire: meeting the Lord of Storm's End. But the welcome she receives isn't like she has thought.And the following events complicate more her life...





	1. Storm's End

Standing, on the bow of her ship, Arya looked at the Rain House’s harbour. She had a lump in her throat. She and her men had come back to Westeros after five years at sea and found lands West. They sailed along Westeros’ south then they went north. By her and sailors’ knowledge, the most secure port to reach Storm's End was Rain House without arousing anyone's suspicions and, mostly, to avoid being killed at Shipbreaker Bay.

«Is that Storm’s End?»

Arya looked down at the child in front of her, who was as tall as her waist, and whom, like her, couldn’t take his eyes off the land in front of them, but, unlike her, he was excited.

«No» she answered, under her breath, caressing his black hair «That is Rain House»

«Why didn’t we go to Storm’s End?» he asked confused, looking at her with his blue eyes.

«Because Storm’s End stands on a bay called “Shipbreaker Bay”». The boy frowned, and he faced back to look at the harbour in front of him.

«It isn’t a reassuring name, is it?». Arya chuckled:

«No, absolutely not»

«And how do we get there?»

«We’ll take a horse and continue by land» she paused «I know you don’t have the patience, but it’s the most secure way. Do you understand, Rob?»

«Yes, _mama_ »

* * *

«Are you sure about continuing alone, Captain?»

Arya sighed.

«I am, Kean» she answered, while she adjusted her bag with few things in on her shoulder «Go back home, you deserve it»  
Kean bit his lips but he nodded:

«All right, Captain, as you wish» he sighed «But be careful. Rumours run fast, and the words of the House are as reassuring as the bay where their keep stands»

Arya chuckled:

«I know that very well»

«I’m ready, mum!» Rob shouted, passing Kean and reaching her, with his little bag that tripped along his back.

«Hood» Arya said, hitching up the hood of his cloak to hide his face «There’s a lot of humidity and I don’t want to fight with your hair to disentangle them.»

«But my hair is always straight!» he argued, his eyes half-hidden by his hood.

«Silence» she ordered, hardening her look «You obey me or we turn back, understand?» he nodded «Well, have you said goodbye to everybody?»

«Yes, mama»

«Now we can go» she raised the eyes to the blond man in front of her «Thanks, for everything. Goodbye, Kean»

«Goodbye, Captain» he paused «I hope for his sake that everything will end well»  
Arya smiled sadly and turned her back to him, she went off the ship with her son beside her and proceeding in the Rain House’s harbour, swarming with people, to find a post-stage for rent a horse.

* * *

They travelled for days, following the coast, trying to avoid the crowded centre and the main roads. A lone woman with a sword and a kid was an interesting news… but, in the Stormlands, a woman alone with a black-haired and blue-eyed boy meant only one thing.

The place that she was worried about was Griffin’s Root, another ideal place for spreading news to Storm’s End, but she couldn’t afford to avoid the city. Rob was more and more excited, with less patience.

They saw the keep of Storm’s End near lunchtime. The inns - better place for words spreading - would be full of people taking a pause before going back to work or on the road. They stopped just outside the city, in a small meadow under a tree to break their fast. Once they finished, Arya chuckled seeing Rob half asleep.

«Go on, Rob» she said to him, looking at him with amusement «We’re almost there. We’ll stop at an inn and we’ll rent a room, so we can rest»

«Yes, mum» he answered, rubbing his eyes. Arya took him by the hand, and with the other, she took the reins of the horse and they drew toward the city.

* * *

Arya entered the inn with Rob's hand in hers. Strangely, he was obeying her; he had his hood on his head. the whole time. She had imagined the Gendry that she knew to spend his time in the city with the people rather than in his keep alone. For her sake, it was better that nobody saw her child.

«Hello»

A happy and female voice woke her from her thoughts. In front of her, there was a woman in her fifties, with her blond hair gathered in a bun and brown eyes; she was looking at her kindly. She had just come through a door, probably from the kitchen as she wore an apron.

«Hello» she answered with a little smile on her lips «I need a room for my son and I»

«Sure, no problem» she took the register «We don’t have any occupied rooms. Your name, please?» she asked taking a quill ready to write.

«Arry» she answered by instinct, noticing Rob’s confusing look. Why lie?

But she didn’t care, because what surprised her the most was the fact that the woman could write. She knew that most of the innkeepers knew to count, but not writing…

«Are you thinking “How she can write?”» said the innkeeper, with a smile.

«Well… yes» she admitted, embarrassed.

«It’s by Lord Baratheon’s merit» she told her, her look clearly showing her regard for the Lord of the Stormlands. «When he arrived, he ordered that traders and innkeepers at least learn to write and read. He is a good lord» she looked down, while Arya sat on a stool in front of the desk and Rob wandered in the inn, always with his hood on.

«Why do you have so few guests?»

«Because people stop here only when strictly necessary, just in time to find a bed» in front of her she looked at Arya's perplexed face, but went on «Here, we live much better than in other places, especially under minors lords of the Stormlands, who don’t like have a Waters as Lord Paramount of one of the most important lands of Westeros»

«The smallfolk love Lord Baratheon…»

«You can ask everybody in this city, and no one will say a bad word about him. All of us love our lord. And I will tell you more» she continued, proud «A lot of people think that he would be a great King. By blood, he has every right; he has Baratheon and Targaryen blood»

«Isn’t King Bran a good king?» she inquired, increasingly uncomfortable.

«On the contrary, he and Lord Baratheon share a lot of ideas and new rules. With the King’s approval, the Stormlands is the only place where there is no more bastard surname… if a father doesn’t want to recognize a child, the kid takes the mother’s surname» she sat on a stool on her side of the desk «How about you? Where are you from?»

«West» she answered, ready to tell the half-truth that she had prepared from when she landed «I’ve travelled at sea for many years. I’m an explorer, but I was born here in Westeros»

«And when did you leave?»

«Just before the Targaryen arrived» she hissed, lying, still furious for what she had seen in King’s Landing.

«Hard times» the woman grumbled, shaking her head «I know she made an unjustified massacre. I heard that King’s Landing gave up, but she didn’t care and she burned the city, with all the inhabitants» she gulped «If the people have called Cersei Lannister the Mad Queen, Daenerys Targaryen is remembered for being the Queen of Ashes, even if her reign was brief, thanks to the King’s half-brother that killed her» she leaned towards her «And, in my opinion, he acted well. I don’t think that another tyranny was a solution to our problems.»

«Mum, look! It’s beautiful!». The Rob’s high voice distracted her, and she looked down to him. In his hands, there was a little candlestick in the shape of a stag.

«My son made it» the innkeeper said «He works at the smith in the keep. He told me that the Lord himself taught him how to make it»

«Does the Lord work in the forge?» Arya asked, pretending to be surprised.

«Yes, he does» she explained «When he isn’t tormented by minor lords or when he’s not taking a ride in the city, he works there. Before he became Lord, he was a smith» she smiled, full of pride «It was he who discovered how to made the dragonglass weapons for the Battle of Winterfell against the Dead and teaching at the other smiths how to do it. They say he made himself the weapon for the Bringer of the Dawn» the woman looked at Rob «If you want, it’s yours. I have a lot of these»

«Really?» he said, enthusiastic «Thank you!» he continued, jumping.

Arya watched the scene in horror as it happened in slow motion. Because of his movements, the hood fell down, showing Rob’s black hair tied in a low pigtail, and his sparkling blue eyes, as well as his face exactly like his father. As white as a sheet, she turned to the innkeeper, who looked astonished at the boy, while he didn’t care about anything except his gift.

«If I didn’t know the Lord Baratheon’s reputation, I might think that he is his son» she whispered, with trembling voice.

«His… reputation?» she started, unsure «Is the Lord very loyal to his wife?» she asked, while something held her heart.

«Lord Gendry isn’t married» she answered, a little sad «A lot of ladies with their fathers or the young widows came at Storm’s End to marry him, but… he gently refused all of them» she paused «His advisor, Ser Davos, insisted that he marry some lady, but it seems that he has no intention to be a husband» she sighed «Scandalmongers say he’s like his uncle Renly, but I don’t think so» she seemed sad «I think that he isn’t married because a woman broke his heart years ago» she paused «Sometimes he comes here, and I can see a deep sadness in his beautiful blue eyes»

_Gendry comes here._

Arya could only think at the fact she stayed in the same inn frequented by Rob’s father… but it was too late to change.

The woman smile returned.

«By the way, I’m Alyce. Come, I'll show you your room»


	2. The Baratheon Fury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Arya has to confront the Baratheon Fury…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I wish to thank Wyneb_Ceffyl_Arya that has corrected some mistakes I made in the first chapter.  
> Second, I hope you'll like this...  
> And third, here there's a video I made a few weeks ago: https://youtu.be/SShD9W3hOR0

Arya gulped while, on her horse, she approached at the gates of the keep. She had left Rob asleep at the inn, hugging his candlestick. The last time she spoke to Gendry was when she refused his proposal, and the last time she saw him was at the Dragon Pit, when Bran was named King of the – now, Six – Kingdoms.

Once in front of the gate, a soldier in a black and gold uniform stopped in front of her, with another man, blocking the passage.

«Where are you going, milady?»

«I wish to speak with Lord Baratheon» she paused, taking a deep breath «I’m Arya Stark»

The soldiers’ look immediately changed: from suspicious to incredulous. One of them took the reins of her horse and he accompanied her inside.

«Follow me, Princess»

They escorted her until the centre of the yard and, while one soldier helped her to dismount, the other run toward the keep, coming back with a man who was ahead with age.

«Princess Arya» the man started, once in front of her and after bowing «I’m Ser Farring, the castellan» he shot a critic glance at a boy who didn’t bring the horse at the stable yet «They told me that you wish speaking to Lord Baratheon»

«Yes, I do» she answered, appealing at what she learned at the House of Black and White for hiding her feelings «Is it possible?»

«He is… at the forge» he answered, feeling uneasy «If you want waiting in the Round Hall, I’ll check on him»

«It isn’t necessary» she interrupted him «I can speak with him there.» she paused «I fought with him in Winterfell, I know he is comfortable in the smithy»

«Very well, follow me, Princess»

She followed Ser Farring toward the yard and in the forge. The place was like she remembered: hot and full of smoke. There was four men, with different ages… and there was him, at one workbench in the centre of the room, with a leather apron that covered a white linen tunic and brown breeches. His hair was longer and he was intent on putting an edge of an axe.

He was so handsome to hurt.

«Excuse me, my lord» the man beside her started, making her jump «Princess Arya wishes speaking with you»

Arya saw Gendry looking up at her with shock, like he was seeing a ghost, but after few seconds, in his blue eyes the disbelief became ice. Without breaking contact with her, he took a canvas and he dried his hands.

«Leave us alone, please» he ordered, sharped, looking at her. Arya didn’t pay attention at the others, who bowed at her and exited, too shocked by his icy expression.

«You look… good» she said, after a long silence.

«What are you doing here, Arya?» he hissed, putting down the canvas and crossing his arms.

«I came back from my travels»

«I see»

Silence filled the room again, and she started to hate it.

«How do you feel being a Lord?» she told him, seeing that he had no intention to speak.

«It’s different from what I had imagined. I found that a lord’s life is more complicated respect to what I had believed» he explained «I have a responsibility toward my people. They depend on me for having a better life, and I have the duty of giving it to them» he paused, half-closing his eyes «And I found, better, I _understood_ , you are selfish». Arya opened her mouth wide, shocked:

«WHAT?!»

«By birth, you had the power to make your people’s life better than it was, but you didn’t» he told her, with a blank expression «You preferred focus on _your_ wishes. _Your_ revenge, _your_ list, _your_ training, _your_ travels. Do you ever think about changing things? Making your people’s life better? Creating new rules?»

The young woman looked at him with wide eyes, without words.

«However, you didn’t answer my question. Why are you here?»

Arya understood that the talk had taken different ways from what she had imagined. Sure, she didn’t expect a warm welcome, but she didn’t think he would be so cold. She tried to recompose herself, hardening her look.

«I wanted say hello to an old friend… you»

«An old friend?» he said, sarcastically. She frown:

«Yes… why? Is it so strange?»

«You never care about me!» he answered, raising his voice.

«That’s not true!» she refuted, with anger.

«YOU USED ME, ARYA!» he shouted, grabbing the axe and slamming it in a wood crock, like at Winterfell years before. But, if the last time that gesture turned her on, in that moment she was almost scared by how furious he was. She never saw him like that.

«You only wanted to know how was sleeping with someone… and, infatuated as I was, I had the foolish illusion that it was love and not sex». He used a furious and icily tone at the same time. Gendry took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down, and he slowly approached her.

«I asked you to marry me because I loved you and I thought that I was finally worth of you» he hissed, in a low voice «I deluded myself thinking that you care about me just a bit, but no. You restarted shooting arrows like I wasn’t there, unconcerned that you had just broken my heart and you trampled on it without respect» he added, stopping in front of her «You left without a word»

Arya was shaking, and she swallowed the tears that threatened streaming down her face.

«I hate you, Arya» he hissed, in the end «And I hate most myself for not being able to move on» he paused, while she bit her lip, almost bleeding «Now, if you excuse me, _princess_ » he said, sarcastically «I have to help my people. If you need a place where spend the night before sailing again for your travels, you can ask Ser Farring. He’d be glad to find a guest room for you». Gendry left, leaving her alone, shaking and near to cry, too shocked for moving. 

* * *

Ser Davos was uneasy. Ser Farring had informed him of the unexpected visit and he had immediately ordered at the servants to prepare a room for the princess.

Still, he didn’t refrain to ask himself some questions.

Why did Arya Stark come back?

Why did she stop at Storm’s End?

Where did she land?

He stopped his nervous walking when he saw Gendry headed toward him. The man blinked seeing his furious look. He saw the boy happy, scared, sad, angry, determined… but never so _furious_. He had always hoped to never see again the Baratheon fury, but…

«Lad, what…» he bubbling, looking at him while he surpassed him without a word. Concerned, he followed the young lord through the hallways for ending in his quarters. Gendry flung open the door and entered, stopping in the centre of the room, his shoulders rose at his heavy breath’s rhytm.

Davos jumped, frightened, when he saw him taking a ceramic cup and throwing against the wall, breaking it in thousand pieces.

_Here it is, the legendary Baratheon fury…_

«What happened, lad?» he whispered, looking at him while he went near a chair and he put his forearms on its back, looking down, trying to calm down himself.

«There’s a thing that I told no one…»

«… and what is it?»

«I’ve known Arya years ago, much time before to come to Winterfell. Her father had just died» he said, taking him by surprise «We escaped from King’s Landing together, and we travelled until the Red Woman brought me from the Brotherhood»

«I see» he whispered, starting to understand what was happening «Why didn’t you tell anyone?»

«I thought she was dead» he explained, with a sigh, without looking at him «The last news I had about Starks was the bloodbath at the Twins… and I knew she had had the idea to go there. I believed she was dead with her brother and his men» he paused «I left her she was a child and when I found her again, she was a beautiful woman»

«You slept with her, didn’t you?» Davos asked, after a long silence. Slowly, Gendry raised his eyes and he looked at him:

«I did» he admitted «Just before the Long Night»

«What then?» he pressed him, understanding that Gendry had the need to let out, and he needed help. The young man stood up and he went to a window, looking at the view.

«At the feast… when Daenerys legitimized me, I searched for her» he explained, with difficulty «I found her alone, in the stable. She was training at shooting arrows»

«What happened?»

«I asked her to marry me» he said, surprising him «I told her I loved her, that she was beautiful, and that none of this…» he pointed at the room «… would be worth anything if she wasn’t with me» he gulped, the look forward the scenario beyond the window «And, like you can guess, she said no. She started again shooting arrows, without caring that I was still there, with my heart broke in thousand pieces» he bent, taking a piece of the broken cup.

«I was foolish» he whispered, with a self-pity smile «I was blind from the love I felt for her and I never understood that she had always used me and she never cared about me» finally, Gendry turn to Davos, looking at him in the eyes «Maybe it’s the fate of the Baratheons to have the heart broken because of a Stark…»

«It’s _this_ why you didn’t marry yet» he exclaimed «You don’t want to repeat the history»

«Not only» he answered, taking down the piece of cup on the table «My father married a woman he hated and he passed his entire life searching in other women Lyanna Stark, fathering bastards in every angle of this bloody place, being unaware of the people he should have helped» he paused «I don’t want to be like him, and I know that is my duty give an heir to my House… but first I have to make peace with this story and with myself»

«Why did she come here?» Davos asked. Gendry shrugged his shoulders:

«She said she wanted to say hello»

«What did you answered?»

«I told her _everything_. And now I feel empty, exausted»

«Maybe… it’s the first step to move on» the old knight hazarded, with a little sad smile.

«It might be» he whispered, but he wasn’t so sure.

Suddenly, a light knock on the open door stopped the conversation. The two men turn around seeing in front of them there was Ser Farring:

«I’m sorry for the interruption» he started «Princess Arya decided to not stay. She told me to send her regards»

Listening those words, Gendry chuckled, but it wasn’t a happy laugh, rather it was bitter. He shook his head:

«Selfish and coward until the end» he directed towards the wardrobe and he took cleaned clothes and some linen sheets.

«What are you doing?» Davos asked, frowning.

«I’ll have a swim at the cove» he answered, without looking at him «I need to wash and relax» 

* * *

She was eighteen.

She was covered in dust, ash and blood, her blood. Beside her, the smoke rose from the burned buildings. Charred bodies laid in the streets and the wooden horse was still in the hand of the little child, burned like her and her mother. In that moment, she cried: nothing had gone well. She didn’t kill Cersei, she couldn’t save the people from the Daenerys’ madness. Around her there was only death. She felt so much pain, a deep pain, of anger and impotence.

Also in that time, five years later, a tear fell down her face.

Also in that time, nothing had gone as she thought.

Also in that time, she felt pain.

When she refused the Gendry’s proposal she did it not only because she wasn’t a Lady, but also because she was sure that she would die in King’s Landing.

But when Sandor told her to live… she had thought of herself.

She wiped away her tear and, appealing at Jaqen’s teachings, she exited from the forge. The people in the yard were far away from that place, maybe because they were frightened by the yells of their lord. She arrived in the centre of the yard, in front of Ser Farring.

«Princess» he whispered, bowing his head «Do you want to stay?»

«No, thank you, Ser Farring» she answered, with a blanked expression «I’ll be visiting King Bran and after the Queen in the North». The man nodded, turned toward a kid of twelve years old and waving to him to bring back the horse. When the boy arrived with the steed, she mounted, holding the reins in her hands «Send my regards to Lord Baratheon»

She hit softly the sides of the horse and she left the keep, with slowness, for not showing how much she suffered because Gendry’s rejection. Actually, her only wish was galloping and leaving the wind dry her tears. 

* * *

Arya brought the horse back to the stable behind the inn an hour later. She went outside the city for trying to calm down, without success.

_«You’re selfish»_

_«You had just broke my heart and you trampled on it without respect»_

_«I hate you, Arya»_

Those furious and icily words were in a loop in her mind.

Ten years before it was her to ask him to be her family and getting a denial.

Five years later, it was him who implored her to be his family, using the wrong words, and she broke his heart.

 _And now he hates me with all himself_ she thought, while she unsaddled the horse and turn back to the inn. Before entering, she put the head down on the door and she shut her eyes. She takes a few deep breath, well aware she would broke _his_ heart too.


	3. The truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Arya has to confront the Baratheon Fury… Part II, because there’s another Stag in this story…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this time, the update is on Sunday

Ser Davos went down on a natural rocked ladder to the cove that he and one lad of two whom he considered his sons had discovered after a few weeks from their arrival at Storm’s End. He looked up when his feet touched the sand and he saw Gendry who had just exited from the water, the black hair that shined at the pale sun; he was tying a sheet around his naked hips. The young man took another smaller sheet and, with that, he dried his hair. The cleaned clothes were on a rock, safe from the sand.

«If the people discovered that you come here for swimming naked, I bet there’ll be a lot of women who pass in this place by chance…»

Gendry laughed and Davos was happy that he had to make the lad laugh in that problematic day. He came near him, while the boy was dressing again and put the uncleaned clothes and the wet sheets in a hidden space between the rocks.

«So… what do you want to do, _my lord_?»

«A walk in the city» he answered, after giving him a withering glance «I wish to visit my best source of news…». Davos nodded:

«Aye, Alyce, we’re coming» 

* * *

When Arya entered in her room, Rob was still sleeping, hugging the candlestick. She didn’t see Alyce, probably busy in the kitchen to prepare the supper for customers of the inn. She sat down, near the bed, with her face at the same level of her child’s. Caressing his black hair, she remembered when, short time after her departure, she noticed she didn’t have her moonblood in the last months, from shortly before the Battle of Winterfell and that those nauseas weren’t caused by seasickness. She thought when finally they landed in the West and Kean went down the ship searching for a midwife. She remembered when she hugged Rob for the first time, still covered in blood; she was a little scared and incredulous. She thought of the sting of pain she had in noting that that little bundle in her arms hadn’t taken anything from her. She remembered the look of who – among her men – had understood. She thought at every time they landed in a new port and take a walk in the city, Rob always stopped to watching smiths working the steel.

«I like the sound of the hammer on the steel» he told her when she asked why he always stopped «It seems it’s _singing»._

But, mostly, she remembered when Rob, with pleading eyes, asked her to meet his father. He wanted to know him. Arya would have easily lying, telling him he was dead or she didn’t know where he was… but she had failed. She understood that the moment to come back home had arrived, like Sandor told her years before, saving her from the Red Keep’s hell.

Slowly, Rob woke up, and she understood that her worst nightmare was coming, like winter.

«Hi…» he drawled, slowly sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

«Why are you sad, mama?» he asked, worried, noticing her expression. Arya bit her lips.

_The time of the truth has come._

«I’ve met your father». The child knelt on the bed, excited.

«How is he?»

«Fine… I think». Rob frowned, looked at her perplexed:

«Why are you so sad?». The woman gulped:

«We argued. Furiously»

«Why?»

«Because I…» she sighed, trying to find the courage «… I broke his heart». She licked her lips, while she looked at her son, who was more and more confused.

She was scared.

In her life, she had felt that feeling very few times, but she always won, like she won the God of Death… and yet, in front of that four-years-old boy, she couldn’t find the strength to face the fear another time.

«One night…» she explained «… he asked me to marry him… and I said no»

«But… why?» he whimpered «Didn’t you love him?»

«I loved him, really» she answered «But I had to do one thing very important to me… and I wanted to travel, and I couldn’t do that if I married him»

Rob frowned and looked at her mother with a different look: he was almost angry.

«How that you being married would have stopped you from travelling? You could have travelled together» he exclaimed «I bet that wherever you would be gone, he’d followed» he paused, half-closing the eye-lids «Did you ask him?»

«No» she answered laconically, well aware that her son was right. If she only asked him, now she wouldn’t face the Baratheon fury.«We didn’t talk to each other from that night. I left without saying goodbye».

Rob seemed incredulous; he looked at her, in silence.

«I…» he started shyly «I don’t have a dad because you didn’t do the simplest thing in this world, asking a question?!» his voice changed in a hiss «You said you loved him… but if you love someone you wanted to spend your time with him. This is what I learned, this is what _you_ teach _me_ every day. You…» he gulped «… you have thought only of yourself»

Arya was shocked. It was worst than she had imagined and, worst of all, he had said the same words of his father.

_Ours is the fury._

«Sweetheart…» she started, lifting a hand to caressing his face.

«NO!» the kid shouted, escaping her caress and going near the door «YOU’RE SELFISH MOM!» he continued, opening the door and running in the hallway, leaving the girl in shock. 

* * *

In the moment Gendry entered in the inn, all the customers stood up and bowing:

«M’lord…»

«Please, sit down.» he answered uncomfortably, waving to sit down. Five years and he was still uneasy.

«Lord Baratheon! Ser Davos!» Alyce exclaimed, exiting from the kitchen and walking toward the desk, where the two men were sitting on the stools «It’s a pleasure seeing you!»

«The pleasure is ours, Alyce» the young man answered.

«What can I bring you?» she asked, with a smile «The usual?»

«I need an ale» Gendry replied. She look at him with confusion, like the old knight. Lord Gendry hadn’t ever taken a drop of alcohol since the first time he entered in her inn.

«Same for me, thanks» Ser Davos intervened to breaking the silence.

«I’ll be right back» she answered, running in the kitchen and coming back after a while with two goblets of ale. Gendry thanked and took a mug; he looked at it with concerned and in the end he drank just a sip.

«I beg your pardon, m’lord» Alyce whispered, feeling awkward «It’s the first time you drink something with alcohol… why usually don’t you drink? Don’t you like it?»

«It’s simply. I don’t want to get drunk» he replied, turning over the cup in his hands and, seeing the woman’s confused expression he clarified «Last time I get drunk, I’ve made the biggest stupid thing of my entire life»

«What was it?»

«I asked the woman I loved more than myself to marry me» he explained, laconically, «And she said no»

«If I may, m’lord» Alyce whispered, with a maternal tone «Whoever was that woman, she was a fool to let you go. And I don’t talk about your lordship with all the honours and duties. Honourable and honest men like you are rare in these days…»

«The fool was me, Alyce» he clinched, shaking his head «I used the wrong words» he took a deep breath «However, what can you tell me?»

«Same things» she answered in a friendly manner «The landlords don’t have raised the rents. They have understood that things have changed.»

Davos held a fathered prided smile: his lad had taken serious from the beginning his Lord’s duty. People had to have a better life and every person’s work had to be considered important and paid right. Gendry had suffered a lot and he knew very well how it feels being tapped and not considered, despite being necessary.

«The two families arrived last week…» the innkeeper continued «… have settled in just out of the city. They rented the old Gareth’s farm and they doing their best to make it productive. The other day, the women brought me some bread. It was really good. They might be useful for me.»

«I’m happy» he whispered, taking another sip «I’ll visit them to be sure it’s all right… There’s more you can tell me?»

«Yes!» she exclaimed «Something strange had happened today» she started to explain, with an excited tone «After lunch, when there wasn’t anybody, a girl has arrived and she rented a room» Gendry and Ser Davos paid more attention «She has twenty, twenty-five-years-old, petite, with dark hair and grey eyes. She was well dressed, with fine clothes»

 _Arya Stark_ the Onion knight thought, looking at the guy beside him who became ashen.

«The strange thing is that she has with her a…»

«NO!»

The muffled cry of a child – the young man presumed – stopped the talk «YOU’RE SELFISH MOM!»

«What the seven hells…» Gendry asked perplexed, standing up and, followed by Davos, went through the hallway of the rooms, but he had blocked just after round the corner from a kid who slammed against his legs.

«I’m sorry, sir…» the child whimpered, looking up at him.

Gendry was breathless while Ser Davos breathed suddenly, in shock. The young lord couldn’t think anything except the fact the boy in front of him was identical at the boy whom he saw twenty years before when he reflected himself in the water.

His head jerked up when he heard a scared wail that entered in his bleary brain. In front of him, there was a pale Arya. Pushing gently the child aside, he moved toward her, grabbing her by the wrist and dragging her into the room. He pushed her inside wildly and he closed the door with anger, leaning against the door and looking at the woman in front of him with furious eyes. 

* * *

«What happens?»

Alyce’s voice shook Davos from his state of shock. He glanced at her, and after turned back to look at the point where the pair was disappear.

«What name did that girl give you when she rented the room?» he asked, while his head hurt.

«Arry» she answered, in a whisper «But I doubt that was her real name. You look shocked». The man nodded:

«Yes… her name isn’t Arry» he paused, looking at the woman in the eyes «She is Arya Stark»

«Do you know my mum?» the kid asked, while the innkeeper gasped in total confusion.

«Yes, I do» Davos answered, with a smile, leaning towards him «We fought the same battles. I know she is a strong, independent and brave woman, and that, five years ago, she left from Westeros to discover new lands…» he licked his lips «What’s your name, boy?»

«I’m Rob» he replied, more easy, unlike the old knight who was more and more nervous.

«Nice to meet you, Rob. I’m Ser Davos… how old are you?»

«I’m four»

_It adds up…_

«Listen, _Rob_ …» he continued, trying to smile «Have you ever seen a keep?»

«Only from far away» he whispered, a little sad.

«Do you want to see it up close? From the inside?»

«Yes!» the kid exclaimed, jumping from joy. The man turned towards Alyce:

«Do you have a hat? Something to hide his face?» he asked, trying to not let the other people listening. The woman looked under her desk and caught a hat.

«This» she said, gave it to him «Someone forgot it the other day». Nodding, Ser Davos took it and put it on Rob’s head.

«In this way, this beautiful black hair doesn’t catch the humidity… what do you think, Rob?»

«Also my mum told me to wear a hood» he grumbled «But I don’t understand. My hair is always straight…». The Onion Knight smiled and turned toward the customers, who were talking to each other.

«Sirs, please, exit» he declared «The inn closes early today». Meanwhile the people left the inn, the man turned to Alyce, who looked at him confused:

«Let everyone out» he whispered «They’ll fight furiously and I think it’s better to leave them alone»

«But… why should they argued?» she asked «What’s happening?»

«Do you remember the woman who broke his heart?» he said, taking by the hand Rob; the woman nodded «It’s her». Alyce blanched:

«So… he is…»

«What do you think?»

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> A note from chapter 4: next Monday I can't post it, so we'll see two weeks from now.
> 
> Thank you all, and, please, leave a comment!


	4. You know nothing, Arya Stark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya VS Baratheon Fury, part III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably, this chapter is the most angsty that I've never written...

Arya stood in the centre of the room, trying not to show all of the conflicting feelings she had. But, in front of Gendry, who stood leaning on the door, with arms crossed and blue eyes that look at her furiously, she was failing: her hands were shaken, so she hid them behind her back.

«Please» he said, in a hiss «Tell me that what I saw out there was a hallucination caused by the half cup of ale I drank…»

«I can tell you that if you want…» she whispered, struggling to maintain the stoic expression «But I don’t think that it changes the situation…»

«SEVEN HELLS, ARYA!» he shouted, punching the door «Do you realize what have you done? How much did you risk?» he stepped closer, breathing heavily «Why did you not come back?»

«Come back?!» she yelled, furious «Come back in a country where a kid born out of wedlock is treated like a plague, as well as his mother?» she had trouble breathing «So he can get through the same my brother’s and yours hell?»

«You could come to me» he replied, with his fits closed «And I wouldn’t have allowed it, even if you didn’t marry me»

«For what I knew, you could be betrothed or married» she answered «How many women have come to Storm’s End hoping to become your wife? I bet dozens…»

She was jealous, and she couldn’t hide it. She _didn’t want_ to hide it.

«And I wasn’t ready to come back»

«Me, me and always me!» he shouted «Why are you so selfish? Didn’t you think of him?»

«Of course I think of him!» she screamed, without self-control «Where I have been, nobody care that I was alone with a little child… so he didn’t live the same life you lived»

Gendry moved so fast that she didn’t see him: he blocked her with his body against the wall behind her, his hand on each side of her head.

«You know nothing, Arya Stark» he hissed, so close that their noses almost touched «You didn’t know what a bastard feels» he paused, trying to calm down «It isn’t the glance of scorn that hurts. What hurts it’s wondering why the other children have two parents instead of one. It’s seeing your own mother doing the impossible for you, putting up with a lot of humiliation rather that losing her job. It’s seeing her smiling but with sad eyes. It’s hearing her crying in secret… and you’re convinced it’s your fault, thinking that if you weren’t ever born, nothing of that would happened. It’s wishing to vanish from the Earth in order to not see the person whom loves you most suffer because of you.»

Arya watched at him, speechless.

«Maybe you won’t cry, maybe nobody said a bad word to you, it’ll have seemed to you that everything was fine for him but trust me: the same question I asked myself, he asks himself.»

«What do you know how I felt!» she yelled, trying to escape from his grip, without success: Gendry held her whist and blocked against the wall. Her mask was broken and she couldn’t repair it, especially because she was well aware that he was right: the time she has seen Rob happier than normal was when she agreed to meet him his father.

«So explain!» he shouted, increasing his grip.

Arya remained silent, without words, while her chest rose and fell at the rhythm of her heavy breath.

The last think she saw before Gendry kiss her furiously was his blue eyes become darker, like the sea during a storm. 

* * *

For all the distance from the inn to the keep, Rob never left Ser Davos’ hand. The Onion Knight thank any existing god for the child’s good behaviour. Because, if the boy started running, he never get him. They passed the gates under the soldiers’ confusing look and they stopped in the centre of the yard, noticing Ser Farring came toward them.

«What’s happen, Ser Davos?» he asked, frowned «Who is this kid?»

«He’s Rob» he whispered, uneasy: he would have preferred having this discussion in private, not under the dozens of eyes of the people in the yard «He’ll stay with us for a time…»

«Does Lord Baratheon know?» he looked at the gates «In fact, where is he?»

«At Alyce’s inn» he explained «He’s fighting with Princess Arya»

«Again?!» he said exasperated «Why this time?»

«Because of him» he answered, and Rob looked up at the castellan, showing him his face.

«Ah»

«Indeed»

Ser Farring bit his lips:

«It’s a problem» he said, under his breath, taking advantage of the fact that something else took Rob’s attention «How can we resolve it?»

«I don’t know, but… WAIT!»

Rob had escaped from the Davos’ hand and he was running… toward the forge, still working.

_So the similarity isn’t only physical…_

He followed the kid, while the castellan came back in the keep to tell the staff to prepare a room for the child. He found the boy standstill a few steps from the door. He had an ecstatically look, his shining blue eyes were looking at Galyn, Alyce’s son, who was the only one who working so late in the forge. He didn’t notice them.

«I have never seen a so big forge…» Rob whispered «It’s beautiful…»

Davos stood beside him, putting a hand on his shoulder to keep him from running and hurting himself.

«What do you like the most?»

«The sound of the steel when it is hit by the hammer. It seems it’s singing» he answered, without looking away from the lad who worked in front of them «I like to see how skilfully a man transforms a shapeless piece of metal in a wonderful object» he looked at Ser Davos «Can I get closer?»

«Agree» he said, taking him in his arms.

 _Seven Hells, he is heavy…_ Despite he was only four-years-old, he was broad-shouldered. Slowly, he approached Galyn, calling him softly. The boy jumping a little.

«Ser Davos! I beg your pardon, I didn’t see you…»

«It’s my fault, forgive me, Galyn» he paused «Can we watching you work?»

The guy noticed only in that moment the kid in Davos’ arms, who was looking at the unfinished dish on his anvil.

«There’s… there’s no problem» he whispered, shooting a surprising glance to the knight. He noticed the similarity between his Lord and the child and he was astonished.

«Not a word» Davos hissed, so Rob didn’t hear them. Fortunately, he was lost in his world made of steel, hammers and anvils.

«But stay behind. Sparkles can be dangerous» 

* * *

Arya was vaguely conscious of Gendry’s teeth in her shoulder, as well as her nails that certainly had left red scratches on his naked back. She felt like a rag-doll, exhausted, her tremble legs around his hips. If he had put her down, she would have collapsed on the ground, among their clothes they had taken off each other.

It had been completely different than the first time: in the storage room near the forge, she was in control and he had helped and indulged her instinct. This time, pressed between his toned body and the wooden wall, she had let herself be overwhelmed by Gendry’s passion and fury. She didn’t try to take control of their frantic movements, it was a lost battle since the beginning. She couldn’t win.

Two different pleasures, but equally intense.

She barely registered Gendry’s lips moved from her shoulders to her lips, light as butterflies, along her neck and jaw, as well as his calloused hands that slid from under her tights to her ribcage, under her breasts. His mouth brushed against her, and he took her from the wall to the bed beside them, following her by her side.

«Why did you tell me no, Arya?» he asked her in a whispered, hugging her «Is it real that you didn’t feel anything for me?». The girl put a hand on his cheek, feeling the slight layer of beard on his jaw.

«I said to you “no” for more than one reason, Gendry» she started, with lucid eyes «Certainly, not because I didn’t love you. On the contrary, maybe because the opposite». He frowned, confused «I was certain that I would have died in King’s Landing» she explained «I _had to_ kill Cersei, I had to finish my list, or I wouldn’t be able to move on. I could no longer bear the burden I had been dragging with me since my father was behaded» she paused, licking her lips «But I was aware that there was the possibility that I wouldn’t survive» she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath «Also, I treated you like I did because I hoped that, in case of my death, you wouldn’t care so much. Plus, I’m not a Lady, I never was and I’ll never been… and you always knew it»

«Do you know that these excuses are more idiotic than the other, didn’t you?» he told her, after a long silence, looking at her blankly «If I wanted a lady who only thought of dresses or how many babies bear, I would married one of the dozen women who came here in these five years» he paused, trying to understand how she felt after hearing his words «I asked you to be the Lady of Storm’s End because I loved you more than myself and I wanted your help to turn upside down this world and its rules. The last thing I wanted was seeing you sitting in silence in a corner, because _that_ isn’t you»

«But you succeed» she answered in a whisper.

«After a lot of mistakes» he said «Most minor lords don’t like me, especially because I changed the rules and I rejected their daughters. They’ll wait I’ll make a wrong move to destroy me»

The consciousness hit her like iced water. She stood up and walked away from the bed.

«I was wrong» she whispered, while Gendry sitting up «I should never have come back with Rob. Now…»

«Arya» he interrupted her, looking serious «What did I tell you when I proposed you?». She gulped:

«That none of this would be worth anything if I weren’t with you»

«Exactly» he stretched out his hands «Come here». Insecure, Arya grabbed his hand and she laid down at his side «Ser Davos will have brought Rob to the keep» he move a lock behind her ear «Tell me about him»

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it.  
> Please, comment!


	5. On the road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flying ravens and unexpected visit

Arya and Gendry arrived at the keep just before the storm started. In the main hallway stood Ser Davos with two servant girls.

«Rob is with Marya» the knight anticipated them, while one of the girls approached her Lord for taking the bags he carried, leaving after bowing «He spent more than an hour watching Galyn working in the forge, he had supper, the girls had him a hot bath and after Marya took him to bed. She’s still with him.»

«Didn’t he fight for the bath?» Arya asked, astonished: Rob used to hate having bath. For a kid raised in the middle of the sea, he had a bad relationship with water…

«No, he didn’t» he answered «On the contrary, the servants told me that he wanted to have it himself, but Marya was adamant. They never let him alone, for his safety» he pointed to the girl on his left «Ellea will accompany you to him» he added «And there is a hot bath ready for both of you»

«Thank you, Davos» Gendry said, with a tired breath, following the girl with Arya, while outside the storm started to rage. 

* * *

Ellea opened the door and she stepped aside, leaving the two nobles entered the room; she closed it just after they were in.

Arya saw a woman a few years lesser than Ser Davos sitting on a chair beside the bed, her eyes fixed on the boy who slept peacefully between the pillows, unconcerned of thunders.

«Lady Marya»

The woman turned and stood up as soon as saw the two behind her.

«My Lord, Princess…» she whispered, bowing «Rob is a lovely child» she said to Arya, smiling «And also very obedient» she chuckled «With a very heavy sleep»

The girl shook her head:

«So, he was capricious only with me» she grumbled, passing her hand between her hair.

«You’re his mother, Princess» Marya explained «It’s normal» she approached them «Your bath is still hot, Princess. Do you wish I ask a servant to helping you?»

«Thank you, Lady Marya» she answered, smiling «But I prefer do it on my own»

«As you wish, Princess» she bowed «My Lord»

«Who’s she?» Arya asked, as soon as the woman left the room. Gendry looked away from the sleeping boy to her.

«Marya, Davos’ wife» he explained, without emphasis «She came to live here after a few months our arrival. She and her husband have been separated for a long time, they lost a son… asking her to stay here it was the least I could do after what Davos have done for me»

Uncertain, Gendry moved toward the bed, stopping near Rob. He looked at him for long time, in silence, and after he reached out of a shaking hand to caress him, but he stopped.

«Don’t worry, he won’t wake up» Arya said, guessing why the young man had stopped «He has the capacity to fell asleep everywhere and in a blink of an eye» she smiled to him, remembering their journey through the Riverlands, where he fell asleep easily, under the rain, in the mud… or, years later, on sacks of grain, unaware that an Undead Army was coming to Winterfell to kill them all. Gendry looked at her seriously, and, soon after, he looked back At Rob, without smiling back.

A grip grabbed Arya’s heart. She had thought that after the events at the inn, especially the talk, the ice that had covered Gendry had melted a little… she was wrong.

Would he ever forgive her?

He touched lightly his son’s black hair and cheek with trembling hands and – after what seemed an eternity to her – he walked away to the door, stopping beside her:

«We’ll talk to him tomorrow, understand?»

Arya gulped: she had never heard a so severe command tone… and she had the impression he used it only for her.

_I think I deserve it…_

«Aye» she whispered, bowing her head: she couldn’t stand his cold stare. Without a word, Gendry exited the room, closing the door behind him. 

* * *

He gritted his teeth, feeling the burning caused by hot water on Arya’s stretches on his back. Not that he had been any less: he grasped her so tightly that he was certain he had left bruises, and the bite on her shoulders was worse.

«What the fuck have I done…» he whispered, running his wet hands over his face.

He had never been so passionate and rough, but neither so furious.

Sure, he had every right: Arya broke his heart, she didn’t look at him at the Dragon Pit, she left without a word to a suicide mission, she came back as nothing had happened and, worst of all, she hid to him his son.

Probably, every man in his own situation would have reacted in the same manner.

He distractedly washed himself and he exited with caution from the bath, trying not to wet the floor. He dried himself, wore his night breeches and went to bed, without caring to go under the sheets.

He bit his lips, looking at the ceiling. He thought of that bloody night of five years before when, because of a few some wrong words, he ruined everything. While he was searching for her, he had imagined how would it be waking up and falling asleep beside her and loving her without caring of the other people, without hiding.

He told her he hated her, but it wasn’t true: he’d have wanted hate her but he couldn’t.

Why?

Because he knew that the Arya he had known years before, who cared about other people, the smiling Arya, the Arya who was trying to come back to her family and reassembling her pack, was somewhere under that assassin’s mask that whatever thing had happened in the years they were apart had gave to her. 

* * *

Arya didn’t sleep. She was sitting on a chair beside the bed, looking at her son sleeping peacefully, uncaring of the night storm.

She was well aware that her son, once he woke up, would still be angry with her… how could she tell him that his father was the Lord they were guests of? The Lord Paramount of the Stormlands, the Warden of the South, one of the most important Lord of Westeros?

What would have happened from then on? Where Rob had lived since his birth, nobody cared if he hadn’t a father… in Westeros, otherwise, being a bastard, even if of royal blood, was a shame.

 _I should never have come back… I only complicated things._ She had put in danger her son, Gendry, her brother and her sister.

She sighed. She knew why she came back.

_«Mom, I want to know my father…»_

His pleading blue eyes, almost full of tears, had hurt her, and she couldn’t have told him “no” or think up a lie.

«Oh, I’m sorry, Princess»

Arya turned, seeing Ellea on the door, in her hands some clothes «I think you’re still asleep» she looked at the bed, intact except for the kid who was still sleeping «Didn’t you sleep, Princess?»

«No, I didn’t» she answered «Why are you here?»

«I bring the clothes» she said, embarrassed «Last night, we put on your son the kitchen’s maid son’s clothes» she paused, gulping «We are sorry, but it’s a lot of time that there isn’t kids in Storm’s End, except for the servants’ ones.»

Arya raised an eyebrow:«It’s not a problem» she said «A cloth is a cloth» her eyes narrowed. She studied the girl.

_Yes, I can trust her._

«I need a favour, Ellea»

«Everything, Princess»

«Moontea» she told her «Where can I get it?»

The last thing she needed in that moment was getting pregnant again.

The girl blushed:

«My mother is an herbalist» she bubbled «I can take it for you with discretion»

«Thank you» she answered, looking back at her son.

«Do you want breaking your fast here, Princess? Or you prefer having breakfast with Lord Baratheon, Ser Davos and Lady Marya?»

«I prefer here» she said, without looking at her «If you can, bring me also the moon tea, please»

Ellea nodded, she bowed and exited the room, coming back half an hour later with breakfast and, mostly, her tea. The girl left and Arya quickly drank the tea. She held back a grimace of disgust: it tasted horrible.

As soon as she put down the cup near the plate with the food, the door opened. Arya turned and she saw Gendry, who had a serious look but his eyes were tired: it seemed he also didn’t sleep.

«Is he still sleeping?»

«Aye» she sighed.

«What did you tell him about me?»

«Just that you live in Storm’s End» she bit her lip «I’ll wake him up, he can’t sleep all day long» she stood up, and Gendry closed the door.

«Sweetheart…» she whispered, shaking lightly his shoulder «Wake up, it’s late…»

Slowly, Rob opened his eyes and, as soon as he focused his mother's face, he quickly moved away and he crouched at the opposite side of the bed, still looking at her angry.

_Stubborn child.  
_

«What other lie will you tell me today?» he hissed, without moving from the part of the featherbed he had chosen as his refuge. Arya held back the tears: Waif’s stabs had hurt less than the Rob’s look. She sat down, with mechanical movements.

«No more lies, Rob». He looked at her suspiciously, then he looked at Gendry, who still stood up near the door in the shadow.

«You are the man against which I clashed yesterday …» he nodded, walking toward the bed and stopping beside Arya «I’m so sorry»

«There’s no problem» he said, half-smiling.

«Honey…» Arya whispered, and Rob turned to her «He’s Lord Gendry Baratheon, Lord of Storm’s End, Lord Paramount of the Stormlands, Warden of the South…» she paused, taking a deep breath to find the courage «… and he is your father»

Rob’s eyes widened and he looked at them alternately, after he stood up, walked quickly on the mattress and he stopped in front of Gendry, in silence, looking at him from the bottom. After a long time, the kid jumped in the man’s arms who, after a moment of shock, held the boy to him. A tear rolled down Arya’s cheek, tear that was quickly changing in a little laugh when her son asked:

«The innkeeper said you were a smith… is it true?»

«Yes, it is»

«Can you explain something to me about the forge?»

«Yeah, it’s not a problem…». The kid smiled and jumped off the bed, running toward the door.

«Wait a moment!» Arya yelled, standing up and reaching him. He looked at her annoyed.

«First of all you have to break your fast and dressing» she explained, still hurt from her son’s glance. Despite everything, she smiled hearing Rob’s stomach grumble from the hungry. 

* * *

«Come in»

Sansa Stark looked up from the book she was reading. The door slowly opened and Maester Wolkan stepped in.

«Your Grace» he said, approaching the table «A raven for you»

The Queen in the North grabbed the little parchment and she frowned seeing the Stark sigil. It was almost a year from the last time her brother had written. What could have happened?

«Thank you, Maester» she whispered «Leave me alone, please»

«As you wish, Your Grace» he answered, bowing his head and leaving the room. As soon as she was alone, Sansa detached the sigil and opened the parchment. 

_Dear sister,_

_Arya has landed to Rain House. Meet me at King’s Landing as soon as possible, we have a lot to talk._

Sansa leaned on the back of the chair, incredulously. Arya had come back home.

_I wonder if she has found what she was searching or she had come back because there’s not-_

«Wait a moment» she told herself «Why Rain House?». What in the Seven Hells did Arya do in the Stormlands? Why didn’t she land at Oldtown or King’s Landing or White Harbour? Why had she decided to land in lands ruled by a Lord whom she knew only by sight?

She stood up and exited the room quickly, meeting a few minutes later Maester Wolkan.

«Send a raven to White Harbour» she said «And tell the servants to prepare the necessary for a travel» she paused, while the man blinked in confusion «We need to go to King’s Landing» 

* * *

Sitting at the table in the dining room, his head in his hands, Ser Davos looked at an indistinct point of the wooden table.

Gendry had a child.

A son.

With Arya Stark.

It would not take long before the news left Storm’s End and spread to all the Stormlands, reaching the lords whom didn’t ever like Gendry, especially after the refusal of betrothals. The pandemonium would have broken out. First of all, the lords would have accused Gendry of hypocrisy: him, the lord who banished the Storm name, had a bastard son with the King of Six Kingdoms’ and Queen in the North’s sister.

Icing on the cake, the girl had had the brilliant idea to name the boy after two kings: King Robert and her brother Robb, the King in the North.

It didn’t matter that Rob was conceived before Gendry was legitimized and he didn’t know anything about him until Arya Stark had arrived with the kid at Storm’s End. He already imagined what the lords could say to sow the doubt among the smallfolk: if his reputation of a man completely different from his father, without any alcohol defect, without the mania of jumping from one bed to the other was obviously a mask, how many other masks did the upright Lord Baratheon wear?

Ser Davos rubbed his temples: his head hurt because of the too many problems. If he didn’t know that the consequences would be much worse than the solution, he would get drunk just to forget everything that was happening.

«Ser Davos!». The knight looked up at Ser Farring, who was going toward him, with concern all over his face.

«What’s happen?»

«The guards on the walls…» he started, nervous «… say that there is a group of soldiers that are coming here. They arrive from North». The other man stood up, his heartbeat faster.

«Do they have banners?»

«Yes, they do» he whispered «With Stark sigil»

Davos had to hold onto the table so as not to fall apart on the chair.

«The King is coming to Storm’s End»

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably, I have to raise the rating for the next chapter...
> 
> Please, leave comments! I would like to know what you think!


	6. What a home is - Part one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New realities aren’t always easy…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have two notes:  
> 1\. This is the first part of the chapter I originally thought to post: it is too long for posting in one time.  
> 2\. I don’t read all _A song of ice and fire_ yet, I saw the show and I learned something from Wikifandom and reading fan fiction. In this chapter, there is a scene where Bran talks to Arya: it’s all from my fantasy, I don’t have any idea if it is true or not, but it’s useful for my story

Davos cursed two things: that Tyrion Lannister was the Hand of the King and also that the King could see everything, past, present and he thought also the future.

«As much as Princess Arya may have been careful on her journey here…» he whispered, mostly to himself that to the castellan «… there’s no way to hide something at the Three-Eyed Raven»

«Do I have to tell Lord Baratheon?»

«I’ll do it, Ser Farring» he answered «You’ll tell the servants to prepare the rooms for our guests» he paused «How long do you think it will be here?»

«Half an hour, if we are lucky»

«We have to be quickly»

The other man nodded and preceded him out of the great hall.

* * *

Leaning against a column of the empty forge, Arya looked amused at Rob who was hanging on Gendry’s lips, who was showing him all of the tools.

«When did you start to work in a forge?» the kid asked suddenly, sitting on the workbench and looking into his father’s eyes.

«I was six years old» he answered, with a sad smile «For one year, I only kept in order the smithy, and, when I was seven, Master Mott taught me how to forge metals»

Arya bit her lip: when she was seven, she only thought to play, to run away from the Septa and she ran with her brother’s breeches all around Winterfell, training to shoot arrows dreaming to be like Princesses Nymeria and Visenya; Gendry, instead, had to work from the sunset to the twilight for surviving.

«So… in three years you can teach me how to smithy?» Rob asked innocently, looking at him with pleading eyes. Gendry giggled, nervous, and Arya bit her lip to not laugh.

«It’s better a few more years…». The kid pouted:

«Why? You started at seven…»

«I _had to_ start» he said, tense «My mother was dead, I was alone and without a bed for the night» he explained, clearly uncomfortable «I lived in the poorest district of King’s Landing, the landlord of the house I used to live with my mom chased me out soon after her death, and I slept in the street for days» he paused, observing his son becoming pale. Maybe it was not the ideal telling him those things, but something inside him told him it was the right thing to do: knowing the difficulties of life helps to see the world from another perspective «One day, while I was wandering around the Street of Steel trying to seem invisible, Master Mott exited from his shop and told me that if I became his apprentice, he would have given me a bed and something to eat» he closed his eyes for a moment, remembering that day «I had no choice: or I worked or I died»

Rob lowered his head, thinking. Until the ship he grew up on hadn’t docked at Rain House, his life had been a continual journey from place to place, seeing new places, meeting new people... he had never known how difficult life could be for the other people, he had never noticed it, never raised the issue.

He was ashamed. A lot.

A rough finger tilted up his chin, forcing him to look up.

«If you want to learn to smith, I’ll be glad to teach you» Gendry whispered, smiling «But when you’re a bit older»

«I’m sorry, my lord. Princess» An agitated Davos entered in the forge, making the three of them jumping.

«What’s up?» Gendry asked, observing perplexed the man.

«The King is coming to Storm’s End»

«WHAT?!» he exclaimed, while Arya blinked, incredulously.

«He’ll be here soon» he looked at the young lord «It’ll be better if you change your clothes…» he said, giving him clean clothes; he grabbed them quickly. He didn’t wear the usual work clothes, but, for the King, he had to be flawless.

«Why is he coming here?» the girl asked, looking at the two men.

«He’s the Three Eyed Raven, Princess» Davos answered «He knows everything of everyone… you should know better than me» he paused, looked at Rob who was seeing perplexed his father changing

«He’ll have seen your arrival and guessed your intentions»

«Where’s Ser Farring?» Gendry asked, closing his jerkin.

«Giving the servants instruction» he explained.

«Sometimes the fact he knows everything makes me uncomfortable» the young man whispered, grabbing Rob and put him down, leaving the forge with Ser Davos.

«What’s happen, mom?» Rob questioned, not understanding the adults’ behaviour.

«The King is coming here» she answered, fixing his clothes.

«So?»

«Well…» Arya bit her lips. Her son had grown up without being part of a hierarchy. He knew how to behave well, he was polite and respectful, but the concept of monarchy, King, Lord, Lady and smallfolk had never explained it to him ... and she had to do it quickly.

«The king is a very important person» she started, trying to simplify things «Everybody owns him obedience». Rob frowned:

«It seems awful»

«No, it isn’t» she paused «At least, not always. If the king is a good person, obeying him isn't a problem, and King Bran is a good person.»

«How do you know that?»

«Because he is my brother, your uncle»

The kid crossed his arms, frowning his forehead.

_Please, not again… not the fury…_

«What else I don’t know?» he inquired, looking at her pouting «What, I have an Aunt who is a Queen somewhere?»

«In fact… yes» Arya wanted to sink because of shame «My sister Sansa is the Queen in the North»

Rob looked up, exasperated.

«Something else I should know?»

«Your fatherly grandfather was king before Bran»

«It seems we are an important family»

  
_Family._

_«I could be your family»_

_«You wouldn’t be my family. You’d be m’lady»_

Arya gulped.

«More than I’d like» she fixed his black hair «Now, even if he is your uncle, you have to be respectful and calling him “Your Grace”. And when he’ll be near, you have to bow and look down. Don’t ask questions»

«How boring…»

She giggled:

«Agree. They’re stupid formalities but all of us have to respect them, for not embarrassing others, especially your father since he is the Lord» she paused «Will do it for him?»

«Yes, _mama»_ he whispered, leaving the forge followed by his mother.

* * *

It seemed to Arya that she had gone back in time to Winterfell before everything fell apart.

Gendry stood up in the centre of the courtyard, on his left, there was Ser Farring, on his right Ser Davos with his wife. She and her son, instead, were a little aloof, a few paces to Lady Marya, in silence.

Her brother hadn’t changed. His blank expression gave him an ethereal, timeless appearance. He was riding a horse, on a particular saddle made especially for him. In front of him there were soldiers with Stark banners and, a few step behind him, there was Ser Brienne and Ser Podrick.

When he stopped in front of them, they bowed, with Rob a little awkward.

Arya gave a side-glance at Ser Brienne, whom, with another soldier of the Kingsguard, helped the King to dismount, while Ser Podrick brought the wheelchair, where the King sat down. The young man pushed the wheelchair in front of Gendry.

«Please, stand up» Bran whispered, waving his hand.

«Your Grace» Gendry said, once he stood up «Storm’s End is yours»

«Thank you, Lord Baratheon. I know that my visit is unexpected, but I wanted to give you something personally. Also…» he turned to Arya and Rob «… I wanted to know my nephew»

Rob raised his eyebrows, surprised, while Arya swallowed, uncertain, approached her brother and stopped in front of him, separating only by her son. Bran peered at the child from head to toe.

«It’s a pleasure seeing you in person». The kid frowned: _seeing you in person_? What did it mean? He wanted to ask him but, mindful of what he had been told, he said nothing. Bran raised his eyes on Arya:

«Welcome back home, sister. Did you bring your new maps?»

«Yes, I did, Your Grace»

«Shall we continue this talk inside?» the King asked, looking at Gendry again, who moved aside, to let him pass.

* * *

  
Once in the Round Hall, the King dismissed all but Gendry, Arya, Rob, Ser Farring and Ser Davos. Only Ser Brienne and Ser Podrick remained with them.

«Brienne» Bran said, raising a hand and not taking his eyes off the young Lord, who looked at him confused. The woman took a parchment from her shoulder bag and put it in the King's open hand. He passed it at Gendry, who looked at him perplexed.

«It’s ready to be sent to the Citadel» he started, while the guy opened it slowly «It's Rob's legitimation»

All of them looked at him in shock and Arya felt her heart stop.

«Even if he is a natural child, he has royal blood and, up to now, he is your only son, Gendry, therefore your heir. And since he wasn’t born in the Stormlands but in an unknown land, the law on the name Storm cannot be applied»

«Excuse me» Rob's voice made everyone turn to him «I know I shouldn’t ask questions, but… what does a “legitimation” mean?»

«It means you’ll bring the Baratheon name» the King explain, quiet «And one day you can take your father's place with all the burdens and honors» he paused «How does it seem to you?»

«Complicated» he answered, frowning a little. A shadow of a smile showed on the King’s lips:

«It’s true. But wouldn't you like your father to teach you something more than just blacksmithing?» he gave a glance to Arya who, despite the impassive expression, was tense «Wouldn’t you like have a home?». The kid smiled:

«It would be a pleasantly different thing. Actually, I don't even know what a "home" is»

«It’s a relative concept» Bran replied «It’s up to you to find out»

Silence filled the room and Arya looked into Gendry’s eyes, who looked back at her. He was nervously fiddling with the parchment the King had given him. They both knew what it would have been like to send that roll to the Citadel: a new life for Rob, for everyone. Unsure, probably both of them would have been uncomfortable at the beginning ... but, apart from Bran, nobody could know what would have happened.

Arya knew only one thing: Rob had every right to know his father. He was no longer just her son, she could no longer decide unilaterally to separate them.

Biting her lip, she nodded and he slowly passed the parchment to Ser Farring, who took it and ran off to the rookery.

«Very well» resumed the King, looking back at Gendry. «I would like to stay a few days, and then I have to go back to King's Landing. I called a new extraordinary council» all the adults present took on a surprised look, even Ser Brienne «You should come with me, Lord Gendry. I need your help»

«As you wish, Your Grace»

«Sister» Bran whispered, turning to her. «Accompany me out» Arya blinked. «Let's chat a little.»

She swallowed: if her brother wanted to talk to her, certainly it was not to be told what she had discovered in her travels, rather it was he who had to tell her something away from indiscreet ears.

A shiver ran down her spine.

_What do you want to tell me, Bran?_

* * *

  
«Before Stannis converted to the Faith of the Lord of Light» Bran started, as soon as they were alone and reached a space where there were the remains of trees burned time ago and, here and there, others had been planted «This was the biggest Godswood after Winterfell’s» he said, looking at the little meadow. Arya moved in front of him, trying to read her brother, without success.

«Many other places in Westeros have one heart tree, to give the possibility to those who still worship the Old Gods to pray... but no one has a whole wood» he looked at his sister «Do you know why?»

«You’re the Three Eyed Raven, Your Grace» she hissed «I’m no one»

Bran smiled:

«You would like to be no one, Arya… but you never have been and you’ll never be»

She looked at him shocked: she trained years in the House of Black and White to become the assassin who had allowed her to avenge her family and kill the Night King. She knew the Game of Faces, she was a Faceless Man, even though she hadn't used these skills for years... so...

«… Why?»

Her brother turned his gaze to a small tree with the white cortex.

«When Lyanna Stark was born, Steffon Baratheon sent a raven to Rickard Stark to make a betrothal between her and his first son, Robert, who was at the time with Jon Arryn and Father» he said, ignoring the question and going on with his story «Knowing the strong bond between the North and the Old Gods, out of respect for the Starks, he had other trees planted, in order to enlarge it. A way to make the Starks understand that it was not their intention to tame the wolf and turning her into a stag» he paused, «Also Orys Baratheon respected her wife. He was the Aegon I Targaryen’s bastard brother and, after the Battle of the Last Storm, the soldiers of the Storm King brought Argella Durrandon, the strong and fierce King’s daughter, to Orys’ tent. She was gagged, naked and chained.» he looked at Arya «Do you know what he had done?»

«I've never been interested in the House hystories, Bran» she hissed, more and more nervous.

«He unchained her, clothed her with his own cloak and served her a glass of wine with some bread. They married after a few years, founding House Baratheon, with words and sigil of House Durrandon» he paused «Fours years ago, I asked Gendry to go to Sansa and ask her to give me a branch of the heart tree, as even the Godswood of King's Landing was partially destroyed, and I need these trees. He brought two, and one he planted it here. The Storm’s End Godswood will soon see the light again»

«Why are you telling me this, Bran?» she questioned, feeling a grip around her stomach.

«To make you understand how senseless your fear is. If things had gone differently, I don't think Robert would try to tame Lyanna. He loved her precisely because she was so different from the others, for not to be a proper Lady» his eyes narrowed _«This_ is what Gendry asked you when he proposed you: to be yourself, to teach him and help him be a good lord, as Argella taught Orys to become the worthy heir of the Storm Kings»

Arya trembled, she didn't even know exactly what was causing her that feeling: maybe it was anger, fury, fear or shame... or maybe all of them.

«Do you want me to take you back inside, Your Grace?» she hissed, squeezing her fists so hard that she almost hurt her hands.

«No» he answered «I’d like to stay here a little longer. Go back to the keep, and ask Podrick to come and get me»

«As you wish, Your Grace» she said, bowing and moving away a few steps.

«Do you know why you can’t be no one, Arya?»

She turned to her brother, looking at him lost.

«You want to _live._ You always want it» he answered, making her eyes widen «You want a _life,_ a _home,_ a _pack»_

Bran’s expression was blank.

«Talk to him, Arya»

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it!  
> Please, leave a comment!


	7. What a home is - Part two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya finds out what home is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thanks to Obsessivewriter for the beta of this chapter!  
> Second: I wasn't sure if I have to raise the rating 'cause this chapter. I'd like to know your opinion if I have to let the M rating or raise to E.

Ser Davos met Ser Farring on the stairs, while the man was leaving the rookery.

«Did you send the raven?»

«Yes, I did» he answered, running a hand through his hair.

«Well, now we can forget any political alliance through marriage,» the castellan looked at him confused.

«What do you mean?»

«Lord Baratheon told me that the only reason he would marry was to give an heir to the House. Now, there is an heir.»

«But an illegitimate child, even if legitimized, he would take second place to trueborn, and a son born within marriage would have more political weight»

«That's true,» he replied, «but we are speaking of a bastard with royal blood, on both sides: his father was second in line to the Iron Throne before the Dragon Pit Council, and his mother is a Princess of two kingdoms. Also, the King himself legitimized him without any request,» the knight's face brightened, «and this has resolved a lot of problems,» the other man frowned:

«What do you mean?»

«The fact that the King came personally to bring a legitimation that was _not requested_ _yet_ stopped preemptively any possible evil voices from the other lords,» he explained, leaning against the wall, «he wanted to know his nephew, so he's interested in him, and going against a beloved king's feelings and opinions is a political suicide,» Ser Davos smiled, «and we can use this situation to our advantage.»

«What?»

«Let's call the Stormlands lords to Storm's End.»

* * *

Arya entered her room, slamming the door behind her violently.

How dare his brother tell her that all she had done was useless?

She had done everything for her family: she had spent years alone to avenge her parents, she had killed, she had executed, she had refused the man she lov-

She stopped, bewildered by the thought.

«What's happening to me?» She wondered, sitting heavily on the bed and taking her head in her hands.

«Princess Arya?»

Arya looked up and noticed Ser Brienne watching her worriedly at the open door.

She was too absorbed in her thoughts to hear the door open.

«Are you well, Princess?»

«Just Arya, Brienne, please. Let's leave the formalities out of this room»

«As you wish» she replied, «Can I come in?»

«Sure»

«What happened? I saw you come in like a fury,» she asked, as she sat beside her.

«My brother and I have a different point of view,» she looked at her, «can I ask you something?»

«Please do.»

«Have you ever loved anyone?» She asked, point-blank, looking at her with her brow furrowed.

«Two men,» she replied, looking ahead, «King Renly...»

«But he was...»

«Yes, I know. I was perfectly aware he was... but he was the first to treat me kindly, to appreciate me for my abilities. He didn't care if I was a woman»

«And the other?» Arya asked, after a long silence. Brienne took a deep breath.

«The other was Jamie Lannister»

The young Stark looked at her with wide eyes.

«It is strange, I admit it,» she said, in a slightly trembling voice, «but he always respected me, he defended me only when I needed it. He told me things about himself that I didn't think of, he lied for me, he gave me his Valyrian sword, making me promise to find you and your sister... but above all, he asked me if he could fight under my command and he was _proud_ of it. He made me a knight» Arya saw her biting her lip, trying to hold back her tears «He loved me»

«And yet he died with his sister,» she replied, perplexed.

«It's true. He tried to leave without anyone noticing, but I realized it and I reached him,» she swallowed, «I tried to hold him back, but he told me he was a horrible person, who did terrible things for his family. At first, I didn't understand why he had told me those things, why he was making me suffer like that, then I understood: in his view, he wasn't worthy of me, he knew well that he would never come back, either because he would have died or because he would have left Westeros with Cersei, and so he preferred to let me go so I could look for someone worthy of me.» She turned to the girl, «Renly appreciated me as a soldier, Jamie loved me as a woman, accepting everything about me. I think it takes more strength and more love to let a person go than to keep him or her tied to yourself.»

Arya looked at her in silence as her mind relieved scenes she would rather not see.

_Gendry's sad look as he told her that she wouldn't be his family but his lady, his silence after she had broken his heart._

Everything was beginning to make sense.

Seeing her absorbed, Brienne rose from the bed.

«Rob is with Lady Marya, I don't know exactly where they went,» she said, raising her eyes «If you need anything, even if you want sparring, you'll find me in the Round Hall»

With a smile she left, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

* * *

«Tell the lords that the King is at Storm's End?» Gendry was confused, «a feast?»

«Exactly,» said Ser Davos, smiling.

He and Ser Farring had joined their lord in the Round Hall and then, together, they had gone to the solar.

«I'm not a feast guy and neither is the King,» he replied, sitting down with his arms crossed.

«Telling the other lords that the King is in the Stormlands is a duty, so those who want to pay homage can come,» explained Ser Farring, taking two steps forward, «probably only a few will be able to be here in the evening, but, given that the King will stay a few days, the others who want to meet the King will come»

«Mostly,» Ser Davos broke in, «it's a good opportunity to officially present Rob.»

Gendry looked at him shocked.

«My lord, you also know that those lords who don't love you will use him as an excuse to undermine your authority. Playing in advance with the King in your keep is the only way to not fall into the trap,» he bit his lip, «they will not dare say anything if they see the King and Rob in the same room»

«I don't want to use my son as a pawn, to avoid losing authority» he grumbled, looking at them in turn.

«It's also in Rob's best interests,» Ser Farring said, «forgive my frankness, my lord, but organizing such a presentation will prevent the word "bastard" following him wherever he goes for the rest of his life,» he paused «you can understand perfectly»

Gendry ran a hand through his hair, «If we write that the purpose of the feast is to present Rob, many will not come in contempt»

Ser Davos smiled, «It isn't necessarily that they know it. Let it be a surprise»

The young man chuckled, «All right, send those ravens»

* * *

The feast was pleasant: simple and sober, in perfect Gendry's and Bran's style. Her brother had spent a lot of time speaking with Rob, under the furious looks of the first lesser Stormlands lords who never loved their lord arrived at Storm's End that evening.

Arya had not been able to hide a certain satisfaction in seeing those men come boldly with the clear intention of undermining Gendry's authority and instead they had found themselves with the King himself to present Rob as the next Lord Paramount of the Stormlands.

For her part, she had tried to keep the interaction with Gendry to a minimum. Her brother's and Brienne's words still crowded her brain annoyingly and she was not ready to face it yet, but sooner or later she would have to. Precisely for that reason, she found herself gently knocking on the door of Gendry's room when the whole castle was in silence. The young man opened the door a little later, wearing only a pair of linen breeches.

«Arya,» he whispered, perplexed, «what are you doing here? Are you well?»

«Yes, I, » she answered, trying not to get distracted by the view she was facing.

_Calm down, Arya. Calm. Down._

«I need to speak with you,» he frowned «May I come in?»

«Sure,» he said, stepped aside to let her pass.

«Did I wake you?» she asked as soon as he closed the door.

«No, you didn't. I wasn't in bed yet,» he leaned against the wardrobe, crossing his arms to his chest «So, what do you want to tell me?»

«I owe you some explanations,» she started, sitting on a chair near a table, «about my behaviour five years ago»

Gendry frowned but said nothing.

«My upbringing until I left Winterfell to go to King's Landing was exclusively aimed at being one of those ladies who just sewed and stood aloof, always in the shadow of my sister who was more polite, proper and she could sew better. Our Septa did nothing but tell my mother that I didn't know how to do anything, that if I didn't commit myself, nobody would want me. I would have been _useless_ ,» her voice was low «I was a pawn, I understood that, and I didn't like it. For that reason I was running away from Septa's lessons and training alone in archery, I stole Bran's clothes to be more comfortable, I did exactly the opposite of what a lady had to do according to my Septa. Because _this_ transpired from her lessons: a lady is a pawn, to be exchanged for political alliances,» she closed her eyes for a second, «then, Jon gave me Needle and, when my father found out, instead of seizing it, he asked Syrio Forell to teach me how to fence. To use the sword correctly. I thought my father understood that he wouldn't force me to marry me for political agreements, and instead, while I was training on my own, he told me that one day I would marry a king, I would rule _his castle_ and my sons would be knights, princes, and lords.

He was telling me that I would be a mere mare. That wasn't me»

She stopped, trying to order her ideas.

«Later, Syrio was killed trying to protect me, my father beheaded for a crime he didn't commit, Yoren cut my hair and ordered me to be someone I wasn't. A boy. And instead, you found out immediately,» she gulped, «In the years we travelled together I had the feeling that you didn't care who I was, you treated me like all the others, without a difference. It was something new for me, a beautiful thing, but, when you told me I couldn't be your family but only your lady, I... I cried that night, hidden from the others. How could _you_ tell me that I was a pawn in a game where you win or you die?» She rubbed her temples, trying not to cry.

«In Essos, in Braavos, I was transformed into a mere killer, I had to be No One, and they trained me for it. They taught me to wear the deads' faces, to use them as a weapon. Yet I never made it be No One. I would always be Arya Stark» she looked at Gendry again, waiting to see him disgusted, but his expression was blank «When I came back in Westeros, I went to the Twins, where I killed Walder Frey's sons, I cooked them into a pie and served it to him as dinner. I cut his throat, and used his face to poison all his men.»

He didn't react «I wanted to go to King's Landing to kill Cersei but when I met Hot Pie at the Crossroads Inn and he told me Jon was named King in the North, I decided to come back to Winterfell. There, I became my sister's armed hand. My father always said that who passes the sentence must also wield the sword. My sister passed the sentence against Littlefinger, I slaughtered him without blinking»

She didn't even know why she was telling him the horrors she had done, maybe she hoped to arouse in him a feeling of disgust, something that would help him to move on, but Gendry's expression was always neutral, he didn't even blink.

«When I saw you in Winterfell, I felt something I hadn't felt in a long time. I felt like a human being again,» she clenched her fists around the hem of her jerking, looking down, «I chose you because you understood that I'm able to protect myself, I can fight, I can make a difference. I didn't scare you. I chose you because I loved you, even if I didn't know exactly what love is,» she took a deep breath, without watching him, «It wasn't my intention use you.»

She closed her eyes for a moment «when you told me that evening that I was beautiful and that you loved me, I felt something I had never felt. No one had ever told me "I love you" or even that I was beautiful. They always called me Arya Horseface,» she gulped, «and then, you asked me to be your Lady, _the Lady of Storm's End_ , and I fell back into the nightmare of being just a pawn.»

_Now, the difficult part starts_.

«When I figured out I was with child, I panicked. I closed myself in my cabin, sitting on the bed trying to find what could I do. It was too late for moontea, and the only thought of taking it, it hurt. I could come back, it's true, and I was tempted to do it. Then I thought maybe you were already betrothed or that you hated me. I thought about how my mother treated Jon, about the life you lived... so I decided to continue sailing. With us, there was a maester, and when the time to give birth arrived, we had just docked. One of the crew ran down from the ship and found a midwife, so everything went well. Fortunately, I didn't need a wet nurse.

As soon as I held Rob, I felt sick: he looked a lot like you, and as he grew up, he became more and more like you. In every place where we stopped he always wanted to watch the blacksmiths work, and when I asked him why, he answered me with the same words you told Hot Pie to defend me. He liked to hear the steel sing.

I thought he was happy, but then, one day, almost crying, he told me he wanted to meet you.

I couldn't stand it anymore and I decided to come back.»

Finally, she looked at him, seeing his blank expression.

_It hurts_.

«Since I've been here, you've always used the past to talk to me,» she paused, «is it really all over?».

«Arya, you weren't only the woman I loved,» he started, in a low voice, «you were also my best friend, but what happened to you in Essos changed you, it made you... controlled, too controlled. It made you stop living.»

She looked at him, her lips trembled and her eyes lucid.

«I felt used by my best friend for a weapon, for sex,» his voice was steady, low, while he was leaning against the wardrobe, his arms crossed «When I found the strength to move away from that room, from you who shot arrows ignoring me completely, I went to the only place that I always considered home: the forge. I found the sketch of an axe, and I vented my pain on that object, making it a useless pile of metal. I spent the whole night there, trying to remember how to breathe... and in the morning I discovered you were gone, without saying goodbye to anyone. I began to believe therefore that the problem wasn't me, but what you had become, and then I diverted my strength to the new task I had: to make my people live better»

Arya breathed hardly. She was trained to have control over everything, to hide the emotions that were nothing but weaknesses... but there, sitting in a chair in front of Gendry talking to her about how she had hurt him with a flat tone, to be Bran's envy, she felt like the little girl seeking comfort in Yoren's arms, after seeing her father beheaded.

«When I heard you were at the Dragon Pit Council I thought we could talk. I had lost hope of having you by my side as a wife, but I didn't want to lose you as a friend. And instead not a word, not a look. You left to the unknown without saying goodbye. Again.» he paused, «and then, you came back here as if nothing had happened, reopening wounds never healed. It seemed to you that everything was normal as if my broken heart was something insignificant, a wick that can easily be replaced without damage, a useless thing in the background. Then, I discover that you hid a son from me and that if it wasn't for his requests, you would continue to sail the seas without the slightest intention of returning» he rose an eyebrow, «Tell me, Arya, how can I love you after all that you have done to me?»

«You can't» she chirped, in a shrill voice, looking down. Hearing him speak, she realized how much she hurt him, and even he, the purest and kindest person she had ever known, was able to forgive her. She certainly couldn't do it, her name would be the first one on her list.

Moreover, it had not escaped her that, once again, he had used the past.

From that moment, however, there were other problems. At the Citadel, the maesters had already transcribed Rob's legitimation. Her son would live there in the Stormlands, to study and learn how Westeros works. He would have been his father's heir, at least until Gendry married and had trueborn sons.

And her?

Where would she live? What would she do?

The mere thought of being in the same place as Gendry, of seeing him married, happy with a woman next to him who knew how to appreciate and love him for what he deserved, it tore at her.

She would never stand it.

That meant, therefore, leaving Rob too.

She would do what she had always done: she would flee. She would take a ship and left alone to the unknown, hoping that the sea swallowed her, so she could finally say to the God of Death, «Today».

She struggled to her feet and headed for the door. She would come out of that room, reach her son in bed, write him a farewell letter, give him a last kiss and then she would slip out, taking a horse and heading west, to Oldtown, to escape one last time.

Just the idea of leaving her son killed her, but she didn't know what else to do.

Gendry's big hand stopped her, squeezing gently around her forearm. She looked up at him, noticing that his expression had changed: he had become sad.

«But, as you always told me, I'm stupid» he whispered, «and I can't stop loving you.»

The dam broke and tears began to come out of her eyes uncontrolled. She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding herself up, kissing him slowly. That kiss was like the one they had exchanged before she refused his proposal, but there was no sadness, only relief.

_He loves me_ she thought, while his hands surrounded her waist _He still loves me._

She felt herself being lifted slightly and after a while, he leaned her on the bed.

«Stop crying,» he whispered in a sweet voice, as he unfastened the jerking and she unlaced his pants.

Arya nodded, raising herself to help him take off the garment and at the same time lower his breeches.

She squeezed his black hair between her fingers once they were naked, the clothes thrown in bulk somewhere on the floor. Had it been for her, it would have been enough to spend all night kissing him, with his muscular body caging her, but Gendry had other plans. He parted from her lips and bit her chin slightly, continued along her neck and then between her breasts, stopping on a nipple.

Arya smiled, overwhelmed with pleasure. Her brain was as clouded, lost. There was not the embarrassment of the first time, nor the fury of the second... it was _adoration._

Her head jerked up as she felt his lips slide down, «What... what the seven hells are you...»

«Shhh»

She arched her back as he kissed her between her legs. Every thought left her mind, overloaded with sensations. She squeezed the sheets with one hand, while the other clutched at his black hair, searching for the slightest contact with reality, without success.

She bit her lips to blood to stifle the cry she made when the bubble of pleasure that pressed into her lower abdomen burst, leaving her without strength.

She opened her eyes when she felt his lips on her neck and, with the little strength left, she forced him to get on his knees, with her on his lap. She put her arms around his neck, lifting herself just enough to receive him inside her. They didn't stop kissing for a second, as they slowly moved against each other until she violently scratched his back when they both finished together. She fell backwards, dragging him with her.

«I'm crushing you...» Gendry panted, his face hidden in the hollow of her neck.

«I don't care» replied Arya, clutching her legs better around his waist and enjoying the chills that the boy's laboured breathing was causing her.

For the first time in years, she no longer felt that subtle pain of feeling in pieces, broken, shattered.

For the first time in years, she felt at home. She realized that "home" wasn't a ship, a foreign or known land, it wasn't the House of Black and White, it wasn't even a castle or a modest inn room.

Home was Gendry and their son.

_I'm done running away._

«Be my family,» she whispered, «Be my husband, Gendry.»

«What?» the boy exclaimed, jerking his head up and looking at her incredulously.

She smiled, «Marry me.»

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it and I'd be glad to read your comments!
> 
> See you in three weeks, on September the 16th.


	8. A nice oak tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The past doesn't stop to hunt Arya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! As you can see, I post the number of this story, so there are other 5 chapters!

«Marry me»

Gendry frowned and immediately withdrew from her and Arya felt his distance like physical pain.

«Marry you?» he replied, puzzled, «Are you kidding me?» he was almost angry, «If this is a joke, it's not funny at all.»

«Why do you believe this?» she asked, confused, sitting up and leaning on the headboard.

«Because from your speech, being unmarried is your clear desire, but _now_ you ask me to marry you.»

No, he wouldn't let her play with his heart again. He wouldn't hold up to her umpteenth escape once again, because he knew her too well, it was what she would have done if he hadn't stopped her: she would leave him alone with their son. And, even if she'd agreed to marry him, one day, tired of being imprisoned in the role of a lady, even according to her canons, she would flee and resume her travels, without saying to him a word, leaving him in uncertainty: would she ever come back?

Arya was silent for a long time, then decided to speak, «Because you're right,» she began, «I am selfish» she scanned his wary expression, «I didn't ask you to marry me because I know that what you have always wanted is to have a family or because Rob needs a father; for these, it isn't necessary to be married, but I...» she swallowed, «I want a family, a pack, I want to be yours and that you be mine in front of all the men and women and any existing god, I want all the ladies of this bloody continent to know that if the only idea of seducing you passes into their brains, they will end up like the Night King,» she smiled briefly «As you can see, I'm selfish,» she paused, «and I'm at _home_. I've finished escaping.»

Gendry was silent then, suddenly, took her by the waist and pulled her down, between his body and the mattress.

Arya noticed that strangely the feeling of being stuck under him did not displease her at all, and the kiss that he gave her left her breathless.

«You know you will have the Baratheon name, don't you?» He said in a whisper.

«Yes,» she replied, «but we both know that I will always be a Stark.»

«And you know what?» he asked, with a half-smile, «I don't mind at all.»

* * *

Rob's reaction to the news didn't surprise her. He had started jumping all over the room and had let himself go into one of the greatest displays of affection she had ever seen. What she didn't expect was Ser Davos's reaction: he was confused.

«Do you want to get married?» he asked, alternately looking at them, «Tonight?»

«Does it seem so strange to you?» Gendry replied, puzzled.

«Well, yes,» he answered sincerely, «until yesterday you were fighting or talking the strictly necessary to each other, now you tell me you want to get married after the twilight,» he narrowed his eyes, «Why are you in such a hurry?»

Arya narrowed her eyes, slightly annoyed by Davos' suspicion. He was not a fool, he had certainly guessed what had happened at the inn or the previous night, but the fact that he believed they wanted to get married to avoid having another bastard child bothered her.

«Because I wasn't ready five years ago, Ser Davos, now I am,» she explained, looking at him impassively, «and we do it for ourselves and no one else.»

«I understand,» he replied, after a while, «But if you allow a suggestion, I would ask you to postpone it until tomorrow.»

«Why?» Gendry asked, frowning.

«Other lords are coming here for the King, in this way they will also be able to witness the marriage,» in front of the hostile expressions of the two he hastened to add, «I can understand that you want something more private, it only concerns you two, after all, but you don't have to forget who you are,» he looked at Gendry, «you are the Lord Paramount of the Stormlands, and you,» he shifted his gaze to Arya, «a princess of two kingdoms.»

 _And the last time two highborns married in secret, a war broke out..._ the girl thought. Thinking about it, Ser Davos was not entirely wrong.

«Very well,» Gendry replied, after seeing Arya's expression, «we'll prepare everything for tomorrow.»

«As you wish,» the knight arched an eyebrow, «my lord, have you asked the King's permission?»

The boy blushed and she snorted, «Trust me, Ser Davos,» she interjected, with a smile, «The King is perfectly in agreement,» she informed him, recalling the speech they had had the day before.

«Forgive me, my Lord, Princess, Ser Davos»

The three turned and saw Ser Brienne at the door, her eyes impassive.

«Are there problems, Ser Brienne?» Gendry asked, suddenly worried, «Is the King all right?»

«There is no problem, my lord,» the captain of the Kinguards replied, «The King would like to talk to his sister».

She frowned: what could her brother want? Puzzled, she nodded and left the room, after bowing at the two men. Walking in the hallway, Arya thought that in the end, her father was wrong: Gendry wasn't a king.

* * *

«Come in»

Arya opened the door, taking two steps into the room.

«Did you want to see me, Your Grace?» she asked, puzzled, noting that in the room beside his brother Bran there was a blond girl, who was between the group of servants come with the King, and who had her same physical structure.

«Arya, congratulations,» he said, calmly, with the shadow of a smile on his lips.

She closed the door, puffing slightly, «Forgive the frankness, but it is irritating that you know everything about everyone.»

«It's my nature, sister,» he replied quietly, «Have you set your wedding tomorrow night?»

«Yes, I have,» she whispered, «Ser Davos insisted that there will be also other Stormlands lords with their family, even if both Gendry and I would have preferred something more private.»

«You may not like it, Arya, but it's a great political move,» the King explained, «he used to be a smuggler, but he knows his stuff. He learned a lot during the wars,» he paused, «I would have to have him in my Small Council, but I knew that Gendry needed him more than I did.»

Arya frowned: that sentence was strange, she felt it. She didn't know why, but Bran's words hid something.

«Anyway,» the King resumed, interrupting her thoughts, «I have a wedding present for you,» she blinked «I had it done in the last year.»

Arya snorted, «You knew I would come back.»

«Of course, despite the future being fickle, one thing was clear in yours: you would come home and married Gendry,» he turned to the young servant, beckoning her to open a trunk at the foot of the bed, which she had not noticed. She nodded and started fiddling around to open the locks.

«Kyla was the model, having a physique similar to yours,» he explained, while the girl took out from the trunk a simple dress, with a rigid corset that left her shoulders and arms bare and a wide skirt... but with a peculiarity that made her travel back to the past.

A wedding gown with golden leaves.

«I've always found Tom of Sevenstreams' song very beautiful,» Bran said quietly as if everything was normal, «Lady Smallwood kindly helped to make it,» he paused, watching her sister approach the dress slowly, touching the fabric gently, «She'll arrive tomorrow, so you can thank her in person,»

The girl looked at him lost, still in shock.

«Come on, try it.»

* * *

Time passed faster than she expected. She only realized that when, in the late afternoon of the day of the wedding, she saw a brunette woman enter the courtyard of Storm's End on horseback.

Lady Ravella Smallwood.

Arya found herself smiling, realizing how important that woman had been in her life: she was the first woman to tell her that she was beautiful as she was. Her mother told her that she could be pretty _if_ she washed and brushed her hair and took care of herself.

«Princess,» she exclaimed, after getting off her horse and having reached her and bowed, «you've become a beautiful woman.»

«I'm glad to see you again, Lady Smallwood,» she replied with a smile.

«But what are you doing here at Storm's End?» the Lady of Acorn Hall asked, «The last news I had about you was that you had disappeared after your brother was named King.»

At that point, it was Arya's turn to be perplexed.

«Don't you know why you're here?» she asked, blinking several times.

«No,» she admitted, «about a week ago I received a raven from His Majesty telling me to go to Storm's End. I thought it was also a good opportunity to see what Gendry had become,» she raised an eyebrow. «can you tell me what's happening?»

Arya cursed her brother.

«I am getting married, tonight.»

Ravella appeared shocked, «Are you getting married? With whom?»

«With me»

The two women turned and noticed Gendry approaching.

«For Gods' sake, what have you become, Gendry!» the woman exclaimed, ignoring the etiquette and hugging the man, then she broke away and looked him in the eyes «I heard so many things about you... who would have thought that that blacksmith who ruined my acorn dress become a so good lord?» she looked at them alternately «Tom's song was prophetic, after all... now I understand the other thing too»

He frowned, «What thing?»

«Women's business,» the woman merely replied, while Arya smiled «indeed, the Princess and I are busy,» she bowed amusedly with her head, «with permission, _my lord._ »

* * *

«Let me understand,» Ravella muttered, while, helped by some maids, she brought the last adjustments to Arya's wedding dress, «you two pass from rolling on the floor of a forge to rolling on sacks of grain?»

Arya laughed nervously, «Aye»

«And you got pregnant,» she said with a slight reproach note and the girl blushed, «ah, Baratheons...» she whispered, «and where is the pup?»

«Somewhere in the keep,» she explained, «but he will have to be here in short time, he asked me if he could accompany me.»

«How sweet,» she whispered, moving behind her and arranging Arya's long braid, bound with white flowers and grass; a servant handed her a wreath of branches and berries and the woman returned to face the future bride, resting the crown on her head. She smiled.

«You look wonderful,» she exclaimed, with a radiant smile. Arya thought that smile must have resembled what her mother could have had if she had been there with her at that moment. She held back a tear.

A knock on the door tore her from her thoughts and she turned around.

«Come in»

The door opened, revealing Lady Marya who was holding Rob by the hand, who wore a black and gold suit.

Arya couldn't help but wonder where they had found it. Perhaps always from his brother's magic trunk.

Ravella opened her eyes in disbelief, looking at the child, while Ser Davos's wife let out an ecstatic exclamation seeing the future bride. The Lady of Acorn Hall looked at the girl beside her, shocked.

«He looks like him, I know.»

«More than looking like him,» she replied, «he looks like his miniature.»

The child's puzzled whimper turned all the women in the room toward him. He was looking at his mother perplexed as if there was something terribly wrong.

«What is it, sweetheart?»

«You look... strange,» her son said, frowning, «You look like a tree... a golden tree,» then, he smiled, «but a nice golden tree.»

Lady Smallwood watched with amusement Arya who smiled, almost apologetically.

«I think it's better to go,» the bride-to-be said, lifting her skirt slightly to move «We're late»

«Wait a minute, girl!» Ravella exclaimed, gesturing to a maid to take something from the wardrobe, «The cloak,». The servant approached the princess and put on her shoulders the grey cloak.

The Lady of Acorn Hall smiled, «Now you're ready.»

* * *

She arrived in the Godswood with her son by the hand, escorted by her brother's soldiers with torches and, a little behind her, Lady Smallwood, Lady Marya and the servants who had helped her dress.

It had been her and Gendry's wish to have all the people who worked in the castle at the wedding and the smallfolk who wanted to attend.

The crowd was wide, but she could not take her eyes off what was in front of her. Next to the still small heart tree was his brother, behind him Ser Brienne and some side steps there was Ser Farring and Ser Davos, who on his left had Gendry, who was looking at her... like an idiot.

The blue eyes were wide open, the mouth slightly open.

«Don't say anything.» she hissed as she reached him, looking at him malevolently.

He closed his mouth and rose his hands, «Not a word.»

«Shall we start?» Bran asked, watched them. Arya gazed at Gendry, knowing very well that both of them were thinking of the same thing.

«Aye»

_«I look like an oak tree with all these stupid acorns»_

_«Nice though. A nice oak tree»_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the part of Arya and Lady Smallwood, I had taken inspiration from this post: https://asoiafuniversity.tumblr.com/post/79130390439/the-importance-of-lady-smallwood
> 
> And, look at this video. It's one of the best Gendrya videos on youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oM74EMOQEls (I'm trying to make one on my own with the episode of season 8)


	9. A man like you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coming back to King's Landing

Arya woke up with a sense of bliss that she hadn't felt in years, maybe never in her life. Her body rested on something warm and she felt a slight tickling along her spine.

Reluctantly she opened her eyes and raised her head, placing her chin just below Gendry's collarbone.

«Good morning,» she whispered, enjoying the warmth of Gendry's body.

«Good morning to you,» he replied, lifting a hand and moving a strand of hair from her face.

«What's on your mind?» she asked after a while, noticing that he was staring at her in silence.

«I'm thinking of the night of the feast in Winterfell,» Arya tensed, «while I was looking for you, I imagined many things: how could it be to fall asleep and wake up with you by my side and love you without worrying about the judgment of others, without the need to hide,» he smiled, stroking her face, «now that that's true I can hardly believe it.»

She smiled at him and kissed him; Gendry wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her against him, turning her until she rested her back against the mattress, with him on top of her.

They continued to kiss for a time that seemed infinite to them, then he broke away looking at her with a smile, «I forgot to give you something,» he sat up, grabbed the tunic from the ground and pulled it on, getting out of bed. She sat down, bringing her knees to her chest and resting her chin on it. She looked at him as he crossed the room toward the wardrobe: his tunic came just below his ass, and Arya decided she preferred him without anything on.

Gendry started looking for something behind the wardrobe and when he pulled it out, her eyes widened and she jumped up, ignoring her nakedness.

«That’s for me?» she exclaimed, once she was in front of him.

He handed her the spear he had pulled out, «I found it on the battlements, broken, after the battle,» he began, «I immediately thought of the worst, then I saw you arrive with your brother and I calmed down,» he paused, watching her looking adoringly at the weapon «I repaired it the night before the pyres. I wanted to give it to you after the feast, but, well...».

Arya looked at him with a sad smile, «Have you kept it for all these years?»

Gendry nodded, «For the first three years it was on the wall in my solar, then looking at it was more and more painful and I wanted to throw it away, but I couldn't, so I kept it but hidden from my sight, trying to forget it, without much success.»

She dropped her spear and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him as he lifted her so that she could tie her legs around his waist. They fell on the bed and Arya feverishly grabbed the edges of his tunic, trying to take it from him, but at that moment someone knocked on the door.

With a groan, Gendry broke away from her, «A moment, please,» he said, picking up his breeches and putting them on as she went under the sheets to cover herself.

When he opened the door, he found himself facing Ser Davos who, a little embarrassed, greeted them both with a nod, «My lady, my lord, forgive the disturb but the King said he would like to leave immediately after lunch, and he wants Rob to be there too.»

Gendry cast a puzzled look at Arya, also confused.

«Very well,» he said finally, «then we'll start packing.»

«Will I bring breakfast to you here and someone to help you prepare the necessary for the trip?»

«Only breakfast, Ser Davos,» Arya interjected, still in bed, «we can do the luggage by ourselves,» she paused «Rob?»

«He is with my wife,» he replied, «he had breakfast and now is in his room to prepare for the journey,» he paused, «The King spoke to him at breakfast, telling him about King's Landing.»

Arya just giggled: she already knew he would beg her and Gendry to take him to the Street of Steel until they were exhausted.

* * *

Old Bryen had seen and survived many regents.

He had survived the Mad King, that old drunkard King Robert, the sadistic bastard Joffrey, his brother with no spine and their mad mother. He had managed to survive the Targaryen, her father's worthy daughter. Two-thirds of the King's Landing population had been killed by her dragon and the city where he was born, raised and lived for all his long years had become a pile of rubble. Thanks to Eddard Stark's bastard son, that third of survivors hadn't had to suffer under the Daenerys Targaryen's Kingdom of Ashes, and it was a real pity that he had been exiled, but Bryen hoped he would live a better life than he had.

Then Brandon Stark, The Broken, arrived, so apparently cold and aloof, and he had managed to rebuild the city better than before. The streets were wider, homes more comfortable, crime was significantly reduced, perhaps because there was more work, given the lack of population.

Many things had changed, one of the most striking was putting a woman in charge of the Kingsguard. Many had twisted their noses, but Ser Brienne had proved that she was much smarter and better than her predecessors. The army was also open to women because it was well understood that fighting was not an exclusive men's ability. Ser Brienne and Princess Arya Stark who was disappeared immediately after her brother's election as king were the ultimate expression. And yet, he had the strange feeling that everything was suspended, waiting for something bigger, different, maybe better.

It was a sensation he had always had, and that he also had at that moment when, leaning against a wall with his only daughter who had survived the siege and the destruction of the city, he watched the procession winding through the streets, surrounded by the exultant crowd. The stoic King rode behind the banners with the Stark sigil, always with his absent expression. After other soldiers commanded by Ser Brienne, Bryen saw some banners that he never expected to see again: the Baratheon crowned stag. Everyone knew what had happened, many had seen that Mott's apprentice boy who had always shown more years than he had and who had been legitimized as Baratheon by the Queen of Ashes, as the only son of King Robert survived the massacre ordered from Joffrey. The traders who travelled brought stories from the Stormlands: stories of a young lord who had overturned the system, who taught blacksmithing to anyone who wanted, who was more with the smallfolk than with the highborns, who had abolished the use of Storm for the bastards born in his lands, who did not touch wine and who was still unmarried. People migrated to Storm's End to live better, and the ladies lined up to seduce and marry him, obtaining only a kind refusal.

 _If it weren't for the physical resemblance_ Bryen thought, as he watched him ride on a beautiful white-coated horse, his slightly tense expression _I wouldn't believe he is the son of that old drunkard_. The man's gaze slid from the man to the horse he had beside him and his eyes widened slightly: on a grey steed there was a small, dark-haired girl with grey eyes who, in the saddle in front of her, held a child who was the Lord Baratheon's miniature. A name began to be whispered among the jubilant crowd: _Arya Stark_.

«So it is true what was said. It seems that the Stormlands ladies' hopes have sunk like a ship in the Shipbreaker Bay,» a boy at his side said with a smirk as he didn't take his eyes off the couple.

«Do you think that the stag tames the she-wolf?»

Bryen chuckled at his daughter's statement, «That boy is not a fool,» he said, good-naturedly, looking at the man in question, who turned to the woman and the child beside him, «he knows that wolves cannot be tamed, especially _that_ she-wolf,» he sighed heavily, «his father didn't understand it, and he started a war for her.»

* * *

Arya was uncomfortable: she had never liked being in the centre of attention, let alone riding between two wings of an exultant crowd. She glanced at Gendry, riding beside her, and noticed from the stiffness of his jaw that he was tense, uncomfortable. She looked ahead, trying to see her brother, but the Baratheon banners blocked her view. She bit her lips: why had Bran insisted so much - and he had been adamant - on wanting them to come into the city that way, side by side, with Rob sitting in front of her? It was like shouting from the rooftops that, after decades and several failed attempts, Stark and Baratheon had finally joined their Houses and there was already an heir.

A son, moreover.

It didn't matter that it was true, but Arya would have preferred that the matter remained a little more private, not being so publicized.

«It's beautiful.»

The girl looked down at her son, who watched the city amazed.

«Do you like it?» Gendry asked, turning at them.

«It's gorgeous,» he said, continuing to look around, regardless of the people, «I've never seen anything so majestic,» he explained, watching his father.

«The King had done a good job,» he agreed, «when I saw it two years ago it was already beautiful, but now it's better.»

Rob raised his face to his mother, «And you, mom? Do you like it?»

«Certainly it's better than the last time I saw it,» she replied uncomfortably, remembering those horrible days.

«Why, how was it?»

«A graveyard,» she replied absently, «destroyed buildings, smoke and fire in every corner, charred bodies in the streets... and I covered in ash and blood, powerless.» The child swallowed, almost frightened, while Gendry looked at her with sad eyes: he had not experienced the siege of the city, too busy conquering the trust of those who had held Storm's End after Renly's death, but only the stories of that that had happened had been enough to turn up his stomach from one second to another.

«But it is no longer important,» Arya went on, giving her son a sad smile. «It is past and the culprit has paid for her sins.»

« _Valar morghulis?_ » 

She giggled, «Exactly»

* * *

Tyrion Lannister stood in the centre of the inner courtyard of the Red Keep. Beside him, Grand Master Samwell Tarly was nervous.

«Stay calm, Grand Maester,» he said, amused, looking up at him, «We are all waiting to see the King's sister again.»

«More than anything else I'm curious about what she'd found,» he said, sincere and even a little embarrassed, «Who knows what lands and new civilizations she has met!» 

Tyrion looked back in front of him, «More than anything else, I'm curious to know why she went to Storm's End.»

That whole situation was very strange. About ten days before, the King had called him telling him to send the ravens for an extraordinary council and to prepare a trip for Storm’s End.

«If I can ask, Your Majesty, why?»

«My sister is going to dock at Rain House,» he replied flatly, «She's going to Storm's End.»

Tyrion hadn't been so confused since Daenerys had talked about Gendry's fatherhood during the feast in Winterfell. How she could discover it? It was a question which he hadn't an answer yet.

Wandering around and about, it was always about Baratheons.

«I'd like to meet her away from this city so full of painful memories for her.»

«As you wish, Your Grace,» he replied, «Do I also write Lord Baratheon about your and your sister's arrival?»

«No,» he said, surprising him for the umpteenth time, «don't write to Lord Gendry. I'll inform him.»

The Hand of the King hadn't replied, although he could not hide his confusion and his desire to get answers.

But when he saw the King and the people following him enter the Red Keep, he found the answers he had been looking for days. Behind the banners with the crowned stag, rode Lord Gendry, with Arya Stark by his side who, sitting in front of her, held a black-haired and blue-eyed child.

He smiled.

«It seems that King Robert's wish has come true,» he whispered, more to himself than to the man by his side, «Baratheons and Starks bond by blood.»

He went down the steps to meet his King, while Sam Tarly watched the scene in surprise.

«Welcome back, Your Grace,» Tyrion said, as some royal guards helped the King get off his horse and get him in the wheelchair, «did you have a good journey?»

«Yes, Lord Tyrion, I did,» he merely answered, «the Council will be held in two days, the time for the last lords and Queen in the North to arrive.»

The man blinked several times, «Is your sister coming here?»

«She hasn't seen me or our sister in five years, I think it's a good opportunity to inform her of the news as well. If all goes well, she should dock tomorrow shortly after lunchtime,» he paused, «Say nothing to either Lord Baratheon or Arya. I want it to be a surprise.»

«As you wish, Your Grace,» he said, bowing slightly and seeing Ser Podrick take him inside, followed by the Grand Master; he approached Arya Stark who, with an elegant movement, dismounted.

«Welcome back to King's Landing, Bringer of the Dawn. It is a pleasure to see you again,» he said, smiling, «I see you also brought something else,»

The girl made a face, which could have been something between amused and annoyed, but reading Arya Stark had always been difficult.

«The pleasure is mine, Lord Tyrion,» she whispered, turning to the horse and reaching for the child who let himself slip into her arms. The man noticed the woman's grimace: evidently, the child was heavy for his age.

_With a Baratheon as a father..._

«Lord Tyrion, I present to you Rob»

«Very pleased, Rob,» said the Hand, with a smile.

The child assumed a perplexed expression, «Nice to meet you... why are you so short?»

The other chuckled: in fact, Rob was almost as tall as him.

«I'm a dwarf. I will remain in this way until my time comes, unlike you that will continue growing up.»

The kid smiled.

«Ah, Lord Baratheon,» exclaimed Tyrion, when he saw him appear next to Arya «it's a pleasure to see you again,» he tilted his head slightly, «how long have we not seen each other?»

«From the last time I came here to King's Landing two years ago, my lord,» he smiled, «I find you well.»

«This time, serving the Crown is not as heavy as previous experiences,» he replied, stiffening a moment, thinking of those horrible years, and thanking the Gods that they were just a bad memory. He peered at him from head to toe, noting that the man's body was the same as the years before, «I heard you find the time to have apprentices in your forge.»

«Fortunately, I don't have many petitions to listen to, except those of some minor lords, so I have time to do something else.»

«And you don't ask for the apprenticeship fee.»

Arya saw Gendry take on an incredulous expression.

«Why should I?» he said, «The income is enough for the needs of all. I don't see the reason to charge someone to learn a trade when I never paid that fee.»

The girl looked at him in amazement: to be an apprentice, you had to pay a fee... who had paid for Gendry's?

Tyrion smiled, «I think that, under your guide, the Stormlands have become the happiest kingdom in Westeros.»

«I only use common sense, my lord,» he replied, slightly uncomfortable, «if you don't give water to a plant, then you can't expect it to bear fruit.»

The Hand chuckled, «You're right. We need more men like you,»

Arya held back a smile. She had always known it: Gendry would be a wonderful lord because, unlike all the others and even unlike her, he knew how one of the smallfolk lived from the beginning.

Tyrion moved aside, pointing to a boy of about sixteen.

«Ben will take you to your rooms,» he smiled, «see you tonight at the feast.»

* * *

«I decided I hate my brother.»

Gendry looked up from the trunk with his clothes and stared at Arya perplexed, watching her enter the room and shut the door behind her.

«What happened?» he asked, placing the breeches in his hand on a chair.

She went to the bed and sat down, «I found a lot of clothes for Rob in his closet,»

Gendry shook his head and went to the wardrobe, opening the door well to show her what was inside. 

The girl covered her face with her hands, «I'll kill him.»

The wardrobe was full of clothes for her. Fortunately, no one had a skirt. She had already accepted the wedding dress.

«Well, you didn't have many with you.»

«I don't need dozens of clothes,» she growled, nodding at the wardrobe, «Not when we're going to stay here a week,» she snorted, «I don't have to change five times a day,»

Gendry went to sit beside her and she rested her head against his shoulder.

«And I hate feasts,» she continued, noting that among the clothes there were some particularly elegant ones, «How many shall we have to attend?»

«At least two,» he replied, passing an arm around her waist, «tomorrow the last lords should arrive,» he paused, «including your cousin Robin, while your uncle is already here.»

«Seven Hells,» she groaned, falling back onto the bed; Gendry lay down beside her on his side.

«But why did Bran want to hold a Council?» she grumbled, looking at her husband in the eyes.

«I've been asking myself that since he told us,» he said sincerely, «Two years ago, we agreed to hold a council every three years, to see how things are going, to make suggestions, to ask for help, and so on,» he frowned, «and above all I wonder whythe King _needs_ me.»

«Perhaps because Tyrion is right,» Arya whispered, turning on her side to look at him better. «if there were more men like you, this place would certainly be better,» she chuckled, seeing him blush, and decided to change the subject, «do you never paid the apprenticeship fee?»

«No, I don't.»

«Then someone had paid for you,» she said thoughtfully, «do you have any idea who?»

«No, I don't,» he answered sincerely, «I've always wondered who, but I've never asked Master Mott anything.» he sighed, «But the fact of not knowing who paid for me made me work harder than the others,» he looked at the Arya's puzzled expression, «whoever paid, could decide not to do it any more from one day to the next, and I had to prove to Mott that I was worth it anyway, that chasing me wouldn't be a wise move,» he closed his eyes, «but in the end, it wasn't important, he sold me to the Night's Watch,» he opened his eyes, looking at her with a smile, «at least I met you.»

Her expression softened and approached him, kissing him and forcing him to lie on his back, with her on his lap.

«I think we can take some time for ourselves...» she whispered, starting to undo his jerkin laces.

«I think so too.»

* * *

Just like in Storm’s End, the main attraction of the feast was Rob.

Gendry had lost count of how many times he had had to repeat the same story.

Yes, he was his son.

Yes, his mother was Arya Stark.

Yes, he and Arya were married.

Yes, Rob would be his heir.

He had resorted to all the calm he possessed and that he had had to learn in those years not to go out of the blue, and when he was able to leave the feast and enter the bedroom assigned to them, he found Arya already under the sheets, on her side, intently observing a spot on the wall in front of her. She had left the feast before him with the excuse of bringing Rob to bed. Frowning, he undressed and went to bed, lying down beside her.

«Arya,» he whispered, putting his hand on her shoulder, «What's up?» slowly she turned to face him, still looking a little lost, «Does this city make you feel bad?» he asked, apprehensive.

«Yes,» she answered sincerely, «but that's not the point.»

Gendry frowned, «Do you want to talk about it?» 

After a moment of indecision, the girl nodded.

«While I was escaping from the dragon,» she began, in a thin voice, «I saw a woman slumped against a wall, with her hands on her bloody belly, and in her, I saw myself, in Essos, when I got these scars,» she explained, putting a hand on her side, where the marks of the stabs remained, «During my training, I refused to kill a woman, and my punishment was death. A girl who was with me at the House of Black and White, the Waif, stabbed me, but I escape,» she paused, trying to make her story as linear and concise as possible «I was certain I would have died, but the woman that I should have killed found me and patiently healed me. When I recovered, I killed the Waif, tore off her face, took it to the House of Black and White and put it with all the other faces. I decided to not be No One but to be Arya Stark of Winterfell and decided to go home,»

Gendry remained silent, listening.

«When I saw that wounded woman, the first impulse I had was to help her, but I knew consciously that she had no hope, not with a dragon that burned everything and everyone he met. I was dragged away by the crowd but, after just a few steps, a man stopped in front of me, putting his hands on my arms, desperately asking me if I had seen his wife,» she swallowed several times, and Gendry felt her body tremble, «That man... he looked like you, he resembled you in a terrible way,» she paused, closing her eyes, reliving those terrible moments, «I couldn't reply that he saw something behind me, let me go and hurried past me. I turned, and saw him fall on his knees beside the wounded dying woman,» she opened her eyes again, «Then rubble collapsed between me and them, and the dragon passed over our heads, spitting fire,» she bent her knees to her chest, trying to make herself as small as possible, «even today I can't explain how I managed to get out of that hell alive, for what a strange twist of fate the Gods wanted me to survive, but when I stopped to catch my breath and vomited all the bile that I had in my body, the first impulse I had was to continue riding south, to reach you at Storm's End. I wanted you to hug me, I wanted to be in your arms, I wanted to feel protected, at least once. I was so tired to be strong. Then I thought back to the teachings of the Faceless Men. Feelings are weaknesses, they distract you, they can make you kill.» she took a deep breath, «that man was aware that his wife was doomed, but he still wanted to be by her side, dying with her,» a tear fell on her face as she scrutinized her husband's sad blue eyes, «I realized that you would have done the same, and I couldn't allow it, not when I was always haunted by death but above all when there was a new name on my list, which I would never manage to survive, not with the Unsullied and with the dragon.» she took a deep breath, «If Jon hadn't killed her and somehow I had succeeded, I would have had no chance. I would be burned by the dragon or killed by her soldiers,» she stretched out her trembling hand and placed it on his slightly bristly cheek, «You didn't deserve Beric's end, you deserved a woman better than me, one with whom to have a happy life, not a broken woman always chased by death like me,» she approached him, brushing his nose with her own, «you deserved a proper lady, that would not add problems to those that you surely would have had.»

«But I've never wanted a proper lady, I've always wanted only you,» he replied, stroking her hair to calm her, «and you're right, I would have behaved like that man,» he told her, while her lips trembled, «if something like that would happen to you, I'd stay by your side until the end.»

«Wouldn't you try to get revenge?»

«No, I wouldn't.»

Arya frowned, «Why not?»

«Because it's useless, whatever I do, it wouldn't bring you back,» he tilted his head slightly, just enough to kiss her lips, «if you want it, wherever you go, I'll go.»

She smiled and cuddled against him, her head in the crook of his neck, happy to feel his arms tighten around her petite body and his lips resting between her hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled to write the last part, for many reasons. First of all, I've seen episode 5 only one time, and I don't want to see it more. It's too painful, like the previous. So I based Arya's story on the moments I remember and the frame I saw. When I saw that man shouting "Have you seen my wife?" I've had a heartache. I thought was Gendry. I don't know if those idiots of D&D did it on purpose, but I have to admit that they hit the point. So, maybe things were different in the episode, but I hope you don't mind.  
> In the second, while I was writing, on my playlist passed "My featherbed". What a joke.
> 
> Second note: I've written a missing moment of this story: "A proper lady", you can find it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20686757  
> It's my intention to write different missing moments of my fic, if you'd like to read some in particular, feel free to ask!
> 
> Thanks for reading.


	10. Filling the past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a lot of questions have an answer...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay!

Arya's eyes snapped open as she realized that there was only her in the bed. She sat up abruptly, looking agitated at the room. She calmed down only when she noticed Gendry in front of the wardrobe, intent to dress.

«Gendry.»

He turned abruptly, and smiled, «Good morning. I would have woken you up at times,» he approached the bed, sitting beside her, «I thought it would be better to let you sleep as much as possible.»

«Thank you,» she replied, with a slight smile. «What is the tedious program of today?»

«Nothing.»

She frowned, «How can you be sure?»

«Because, at least this morning, we won't be here,» he said, smiling, «last night Rob begged me to take him to the Street of Steel,» he explained, «apparently your brother told him about it, he said I worked there and he was excited.»

Arya giggled and shook her head.

«If he didn't go somewhere else, there should be an old friend, one I worked with when I escaped from Dragonstone and came back here,» he paused, «I intended to tell you yesterday, but you were much more important.»

Arya smiled and kissed him.

_What have I done to deserve a man like him?_

* * *

Half hidden from the curtain, Gendry watched with amusement as the blond man pulled the steel blade out of the embers to move it to the anvil.

«If I were you, I would leave it in the embers at little bit time.» 

The person in question immediately jerked his head and, when he noticed Gendry, he smiled.

«Gendry, you damn bastard!» he exclaimed, running to meet him and hugging him.

«It's good to see you again, Garris,» the black-haired boy said, once he had loosened his embrace and looked into his eyes, «I was afraid of not finding you.»

The other looked at him malevolently, «I'm not the asshole who left without a word,» hearing a slight laugh, Garris looked up and only then noticed Arya with Rob.

He blanched.

«Oh, forgive me m'lady,» he hastened to apologize, «I haven't seen you.»

«Don't worry,» she said, «I've heard a lot worse, like him.»

«Garris,» Gendry interposed, at his side, «let me introduce you to my wife Arya and my son Rob.»

«M'lady,» the man whispered, bowing his head.

«Just Arya, please,» she replied, with a smile, «It's a pleasure to meet you.»

«The honour is mine.»

The girl looked down at the child in front of her, «Rob?»

Rob looked up, disoriented: he had been enchanted by the environment that surrounded him, «Huh?»

Arya merely raised an eyebrow, looking at him reproachfully; the kid understood immediately and turned to the blacksmith, «Nice to meet you.»

The man smiled, then motioned to a dark-haired boy, about eleven years old, who had remained silent until then in the rear of the room.

«Let me introduce you to Erys, my apprentice.»

The boy approached, his face red, his head bowed, embarrassed.

Gendry came close to him, put a hand under his chin and lifted his face.

«There is no need to keep your eyes down, Erys,», he said, with a smile, «The last thing I want is to inspire fear,» the smile deepened, becoming mischievous, «I understand that _she_ can instil terror, but...»

«Hey!» Arya exclaimed, pretending to be offended, «I'm not terrifying!»

He turned to her, looking at her with a raised eyebrow, «Come on, the first time you saw Hot Pie you pointed your sword at his stomach and threatened to pierce him from side to side, at Winterfell a blacksmith escaped when you started throwing those dragonglass knives. At Dragon Pit you told Lady Greyjoy that you would cut her throat... should I continue?»

She became red, furious for not having obtained the last word. She sat down heavily on a stool behind her, taking Rob in her arms.

«Who the seven hells did you get into your bed?» Garris whispered, shocked.

Gendry smiled, «The woman I love.»

«So, Garris,» Arya began, still watching her husband malevolently, «I would like to hear from you how you two met.»

«He arrived here from nowhere, telling me that he came from Harrenal and was looking for a job as a blacksmith,» he began, as he sat on a stool, imitated by the others, «all he needed was a bed and something to eat,» he paused, passing by a hand in his hair, «I asked him to show me what he could do and he forged me an excellent dagger, so I took him with me,» he sighed, «then, from one hour to the next, he disappeared into thin air,» he glanced at him reproach, «only after King Bran's election I discovered who he was and that he filled me with lies... and that he didn't tell me that he knows how to work Valyrian steel.»

Gendry frowned, «Both Stannis and the Lannisters wanted my head. Sorry if I preferred to protect myself and protect you.»

«That's true too,» he admitted, «but you left me when there was an increase in demand for...» his eyes widened, «the sword!» he jumped up and went back to the anvil, noticing that the sketch of the weapon he was forging was cold and deformed, «Seven hells, I have to start again.»

Gendry came over and picked up the weapon. He looked at it confused, «Who are you making it for?» he asked, weighing it.

«A recruit. A girl in her twenties, a little taller than her,» he explained, pointing to Arya, «proportionate in weight.»

The boy looked at him raising an eyebrow, «I remembered you were good, Garris,» the other looked at him with a furrowed brow, «she will never be able to fight with a sword like this.»

Arya stood up, resting Rob on the stool, and approached the two. She took the sword from Gendry's hands and weighed it, «It's not very heavy. I hold it quietly.»

«It is not a question of weight,» he explained, «I bet you could easily raise Oathkeeper, but tell me, could you fight with it?» 

She thought for a moment, «No, actually no.»

«Exactly,» Gendry looked at his friend again, «it's disproportionate. It's too wide and too long,» he placed the weapon on a workbench, «Where do you keep the moulds?»

«On the rear.»

«Well,» he took an apron hooked to a nail and put it on, «Let's try to make a decent weapon for this poor recruit.»

* * *

As the King had said, the ship of the Queen in the North docked shortly after lunch.

Tyrion observed what had been his wife getting off the boat that had taken her from the ship to the port.

«Welcome to King's Landing, Your Grace.»

«Thank you, Lord Tyrion.»

«Have you had a good trip?» he asked as they walked, followed by a pair of Northern soldiers and Maester Wolkan.

«Yes,» she replied, «even if full of questions,» she stopped, looking at him doubtfully, «What's happening? Why is Arya in the Stormlands?»

Tyrion bit his lip, «It isn't my place to tell you why, Your Grace,» she frowned, «it's a complex situation, it is better if King Bran tells you about it.»

* * *

«Come in.»

The Hand opened the door and entered, moving immediately to the side to let the woman pass, «Your Grace, the Queen in the North Sansa Stark.»

«It's nice to see you again, sister,» the King whispered, with a slight smile, «Your journey was fine.»

«Wind in the stern and calm sea,» she replied, approaching a few steps, «but with too many questions that need answers.»

«Then I'll leave you,» exclaimed Tyrion, heading towards the door, «Your Graces.»

As soon as the man had closed the door behind him, Sansa turned to her brother.

«What's going on, Bran?» she asked apprehensively, «How's Arya? Why did she go to the Stormlands? Where is she now? Why am I here?»

«One question at a time, sister,» he whispered, looking into her eyes, «Come on, sit,» he went on, pointing to the chair at the table. Sansa sat down stiffly.

«I asked you to come here because I called an extraordinary council.»

The woman frowned, «So? The North is an independent kingdom, I have no right to sit in the council.»

«True, but I didn't call you for that, Sansa,» he replied, «I thought you might like to see Arya again after five years.»

«So she's here?»

«Yes,» he confirmed, «I went personally to Storm’s End and she returned with me.»

«That's what I don't understand, Bran,» she muttered, letting go against the back of the chair, «why the Stormlands? Why didn't she dock in Oldtown, here or in White Harbor?» she paused, «Why did she go to Storm's End, to a Lord she barely knows? I know that the spear which she fought with it was made by him because he was the best blacksmith in Winterfell, but this doesn't explain her choice.»

«She had to find what she always looked for in these years.»

Sansa frowned, puzzled, «Finding unknown lands here in Westeros? What does it mean?»

Bran just smiled, «Who tells you that what she was looking for was unknown lands?»

The woman started to speak when someone knocked on the door and her brother gave permission to enter.

«Your Grace,» said Tyrion Lannister, opening the door, «As you asked, I brought you Lord and Lady Baratheon.»

Sansa looked shocked as her sister entered, with Lord Baratheon behind her and, attached to her left hand, a blue-eyed and black-haired child.

«She never looked for new lands, Sansa,» Bran whispered, «She looked for a home.»

* * *

«Sansa?»

Arya was shocked: when Tyrion Lannister had found them as soon as they returned from their tour in the new Flea Bottom telling them that the King wanted to talk, she hadn't imagined she would see her sister.

The young queen looked into her eyes for a long time, then her gaze flickered over Gendry, then over Rob and back at her, then turned to Bran.

«In all the answers you gave me about the question of how was our sister, you didn't have the space to tell me about _this_?» she almost shrieked, pointing at Rob with a wave of her hand.

Arya clenched her fists, suddenly furious and strode over to the other two.

«"This" is my son, he has a name and I strongly suggest you to moderate your words, _Your Grace_ ,» she hissed, looking into her eyes.

Silence fell until Gendry cleared his throat.

«It would be better to leave you alone,» he said, taking Rob by the hand, «Your Grace, I ask the permission to leave.»

«I'm coming with you, Lord Baratheon,» he replied, «Can you push me?»

«As you wish,» he said, leaving Rob's hand and approaching the King, taking the handles of the chair, «My Queen,» he whispered as he passed in front of her, leaving the two alone.

«What is this story, Arya?» Sansa hissed angrily.

«It doesn't seem hard to understand,» she said, crossing her arms over her chest, «I have a son with Gendry. I went to Storm’s End to let him know about him. Then Bran arrived, married us and brought us here.»

«You slept with a man before you were married,» she said, hiding her disappointment without much success. 

Arya raised an eyebrow, «I'm not the only one to have done it.»

«The prostitutes, the tavern girls, the lowborns,» she muttered, «certainly not proper ladies.»

The girl burst out laughing, «You know very well that I've never been a Lady, much less a proper one.»

«That doesn't mean it's wrong.»

«Wrong?» she repeated, incredulous, «What is wrong with something absolutely normal?» she became sad, «Really, I'm so sorry that for you it wasn't ever enjoyable, Sansa, but for me, it was. After years of feeling dead, when I was just a killing machine, I felt alive.»

«So, you gave your maidenhead to the first man who came along.»

«He was never "the first man who came along",» she growled, shuddering, «but the only man I ever loved since I was a child.»

Sansa assumed a confused expression, «What are you saying?»

With a sigh, Arya dropped into the chair, «I've known Gendry since our father was beheaded. Yoren had taken me away from the crowd and disguised as a boy, to let me join the recruits of the Night's Watch,» she began to explain, tired, «He was there too, his master sold him. Then came the Gold Cloaks that were looking for him, no one knew why. Yoren refused to give them Gendry, and they sent bandits to catch us all. They killed Yoren, captured us and took us to Harrenal. But we escaped and travelled to the Riverlands until we met the Brotherhood without Banners, and there Thoros and Beric sold him to the Red Witch. I ran away, and I went to the Twins, witnessing Robb's and Mother's death, but Sandor took me away before the Freys could take me too,» Sansa looked at her in silence, shocked, «we travelled everywhere, until I left him dying in a cliff and I left for Essos,» she ran her hands through her hair, trying to calm herself, «I always thought he was dead, then when I saw him again with Jon I remembered all the moments spent together and all my desires. While we were travelling through the woods, I once thought that I could ride away with him and be an outlaw, like Wenda the White Fawn. I wanted him to come with me to Winterfell, I wanted to be his family because he was different from everyone else. He's different.»

«If he were different, he would have stopped you or, considering that he didn't, he would have asked you to marry him.»

«And that's what he did,» she hissed, looking at her badly, «as soon as he was named lord he came to me and asked me to marry him, but I said no.»

«Why?»

«Because I had to kill Cersei, and he deserved someone better than me, not a woman who would have added problems on problems. He deserved a proper lady,» she smiled melancholy, «I don't know what I did to deserve a man like him. I was selfish because as soon as I saw him in Winterfell I decided he would be mine. I did nothing but provoke him,» she chuckled, «living in a brothel for a year taught me a lot.»

Sansa decided not to comment, but she took a chair and sat next to her, «Why didn't you tell him you were with child?»

«Because I was at sea.»

Her sister looked at her shocked, «But it was at least four moons! How did you not notice it before?»

«Because I have never been regular,» she replied flatly, «I hadn't already had my moonblood for months, especially in the bad periods, but I had never worried since I hadn't allowed anyone to touch me.»

«And neither of you thought of being careful?»

She looked at her discouraged, «Sansa, we were sure we were going to die soon! I've never imagined that one night would be enough! It completely slipped my mind to steal from Maester Wolkan's cupboard some moontea!»

«Arya, we're talking about the Baratheons, about a man who had who knows how many siblings! And evidently, you at least got something from our mother, since she got pregnant with Robb right after the wedding.»

Arya remained silent.

«Why didn't you come back?» Sansa said softly.

«I thought he was already betrothed or married,» she whispered, slightly sad. «I knew he was a very attractive man for all the families who wanted to gain power. I protected myself by deciding not to come back. I could never have endured seeing him married to another woman. Knowing with certainty that another woman would feel what I felt. I was already jealous enough of the three he had before,» she swallowed, «I came back just because Rob begged me to do it. And the reunion wasn't good as I hoped.»

Her sister put her hand on her back, comforting her, «Come on, tell me. Also about my nephew.»

* * *

The King, Gendry, Rob and Tyrion walked in silence in the garden and each one was thinking of the two sisters who were probably arguing.

When they reached a gazebo, Bran signalled to stop.

«Lord Tyrion,» he began, flat, «take my nephew to see the dragons' bones. I am sure he will like it.»

«As you wish, Your Grace,» turned to the child, «do you want to follow me?»

Rob looked up at his father who nodded, then he looked back at the man in front of him, «With pleasure.»

«There are many things you don't know about yourself, Lord Gendry,» the King whispered, watching the two move away, «If you want, I can fill these holes. If, on the other hand, you prefer not to know, we can continue our walk and talk about something else. The choice is yours.»

Gendry was silent for a long time, thinking. 

«I'd like to know,» he said finally.

«Please sit down,» Bran said, pointing to a stone bench. «Mott knew who your father was,» he began when the boy sat down, «as soon as your mother died, a man came to him and told him that if he took you with him he would have paid the apprenticeship fee, as well as giving him something extra to give you a place to stay. He told him you were his bastard and he wanted to provide for you without his wife knowing, but Mott immediately understood the truth, but he kept the secret,» he paused, looking him carefully in the eyes, «That man was Lord Varys.»

«Why did Lord Varys do it?»

«Because the Spider had always served the Kingdom, not who guided it. He tried to do the best. With his birds, with his ideas, and letting the king's son starve to death wasn't the right thing to do.

When Jon Arryn came to talk to you, Mott sensed that something strange was going on, and that's why when Yoren came to buy you, he didn't bother letting you go, even though you were his best apprentice and he taught you things that to others he hadn't taught. He understood that if you stayed there, you would be in danger.»

Gendry frowned.

«Even Eddard Stark had immediately understood who you were. Your behaviour, your look, the way you held the hammer, all of this resembled King Robert. He swore to him when he was dying that he would protect his children as if they were his own, and so he began to prepare an escape plan at least for you and your newborn sister Barra. He told Yoren that if something happened to him, he would go and buy you from Mott and ransom the mother of Barra from Littlefinger. Yoren had time to take only you, Barra was the first to be killed.»

Gendry clenched his fists.

«The Gold Cloaks tortured Mott to make him say where you were gone because he didn't want to talk. He was arrested and imprisoned, but they didn't kill him because he knew how to work Valyrian steel, and very few blacksmiths can do it. They forced him to melt Ice and create two swords from it,» he paused, watching the lord stiffen «Yoren's job was to get you safe and sound in Winterfell, where you wouldn't take risks,» his voice betrayed no emotion, «Remember the night you were attacked by bandits? He took you and Arya aside and told you that, whatever had happened, you would have to run without looking back,» he smiled slightly, «but both of you are stubborn, and you came back.»

Gendry lowered his head, embarrassed.

«If things had gone differently, if Father had managed to return to Winterfell safe and sound, he would have raised you like a son, as he did with Jon and Theon.»

That last sentence caught the attention of the boy who raised his head in disbelief.

«What does "as he did with Jon" mean?» he asked, puzzled, «Is Jon not your brother?»

«No, he isn't,» he replied apathetically, «he's my cousin. His mother was Lyanna Stark, his father Raeghar Targaryen,» he looked at Gendry's shocked expression, «and he's also your distant cousin, being your great-grandmother a Targaryen.»

The other took his head in his hands, closing his eyes: filling the past hadn't proved a great idea.

«But it isn't the blood that makes parents, sons, daughters or siblings,» the King continued, without ceasing to look at him, «feelings make them. For Jon Raeghar it's nothing. His father is Eddard Stark.»

«So, it seems that I have a huge debt to your family, Your Grace. Without your father, I would have been dead a long time ago,» Gendry said finally, turning back to the King.

«We are also indebted to you, Gendry,» he replied, «without you, Arya would have died and would not have recovered from what was done to her in the House of Black and White,» he looked at the garden, «Let's continue our walk and talk about more boring things, Lord Baratheon,» the tone was back to formal, «tell me about your new ideas for the Stormlands.»

Gendry shook his head: having a King who knew everything was definitely annoying.


	11. The Council

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, Bran speaks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are at THE chapter!

Looking ahead and continuing to push the wheelchair, Gendry began to speak, «I'd like to put a stop to marriages between children,» he bit his lip, «In these five years, the Stormlands lords introduced me their daughters, granddaughters, sisters, most of them were little girls, the youngest was thirteen. It gave me creeps,» he paused, reflecting, «I know that marriages are an instrument of an alliance, and you can hardly ever change this, but I would like both the girl and the boy to be at least aware and agree with it, not that the marriage to be imposed on them. It's horrible to be pawns. Not all arranged marriages are as fortunate as your parents', Your Grace.»

«You're right,» replied the King, «I think eighteen is a reasonable age,» he paused, «any other ideas?»

«Yes,» he confirmed, «I'd like all the children of the Houses to receive the same education, that everyone can govern because you never know what can happen or what their desires are,» he paused, «I wish the legacy wasn't related to gender, and that if the heir of a House is a female, she carries on the name of her House,» he shook his head, «but I have no idea how to apply it,» he muttered, «I don't want to _impose_ a law, I have already imposed the Storm one, and the changes I made were informal, and the other lords applied on their own accord, seeing it was for the best.» he paused, «I have a four-year-old son, it's not right to wait fifteen years and _hoping_ that the other Houses will at least adapt to the marriage, in these years who knows how many marriages between children will occur.»

«You could hold a council,» suggested the King, «explain your ideas to the Houses representatives and put them to the vote and, if there is not a clear majority, leave free choice,» Bran beckoned to him to stop and come to him «so, who is against it, can see how things change between those had accept and think about it, and maybe they'll change their mind.»

«It may be an idea,» agreed Gendry, resuming the serene expression, «I hope to convince them.»

The King could only smile because they heard footsteps approaching. Turning around, the two saw Arya and Sansa moving toward them.

«Your Grace,» the young man whispered, bowing.

«I owe you an apology, Lord Baratheon.»

«It is not to me that you owe an apology, Your Grace,» he replied tense, looking into her eyes, «but to Rob.»

«And I intend to do it,» she said, biting her lips.

«By the way,» Arya said, «where is he?»

«With Lord Tyrion in the basement,» replied the King, «I thought he liked the bones of the dragons,» he looked at Gendry, «shall we go?»

* * *

Tyrion chuckled to see Rob's astonished expression in front of Balerion's huge skull, one of the few dragon skulls that had been saved from Daenerys' destruction.

«Is it real?» the child whispered incredulously.

«Yes, it is,» the man replied, sitting on a step.

«But do they still exist?» he asked, sitting down beside him.

The other bit his lip, «Maybe one.»

«Why are you so tense, Lord Tyrion?» the kid asked with a frown, noting the sudden change of mood of his companion.

«Because this last dragon is part of one of the worst periods in our history.»

«Is it the same as my mother's memories of this city?» Rob whispered, bringing his knees to his chest, «Burned buildings, charred bodies in the streets?»

«Unfortunately, yes,» he replied.

«Can you tell me what happened?»

Tyrion blinked several times, «It's not a nice story, Rob,» he said softly, «too many survivors still carries nightmares.»

«You too?»

«Me too,» he confirmed, «but ignorance isn't the solution,» he took a deep breath and began to tell the story, trying to ignore the goriest aspects.

Rob listened attentively to what the Hand was telling him and, as he spoke, he felt his stomach tighten. Lord Tyrion was right: it was a horrible story. He remained silent until he was told of the siege of King's Landing.

«But why did she do it?» he exclaimed, incredulous, «They had surrendered!»

The dwarf took a deep breath. «They say that madness and greatness are two sides of the same coin. Every time a new Targaryen was born the gods tossed the coin in the air and the world held its breath to see how it would land.» he paused, «Daenerys Targaryen started with good intentions but, as more she approached the Iron Throne, the more her mind got worse,» he sighed, «when she saw the woman she considered her sister be killed in front of her and her dragon plunged into the waters of Blackwaters Bay, she gave up. She no longer wanted justice, she wanted revenge.»

«Nobody tried to stop the dragon?»

«A dragon responds only to those who have Targaryen blood and can speak High Valyrian,» he explained laconically, «and few can.»

«I can.»

«Pardon?» he asked, in shock.

«Yes, I can speak High Valyrian. My mother taught me; she learned it during her travels when she was younger.»

«How many languages do you know?»

Rob started counting on his fingers, «Seven, but two not very well,» he tilted his head, «what happened to Daenerys?»

«She was killed by the man who loved her,» he replied, «then the dragon destroyed the Iron Throne, took her body and flew away. Maybe he is still alive, or he let himself die of pain.»

«It's such a bad story,» he finally whispered, his chin resting on his knees.

«Yes, very ugly,» he agreed, «but remember, Rob: after dark, there is _always_ light.»

The child smiled and together turned when they heard footsteps approaching them. The three Starks and Gendry Baratheon came out of the shadows.

Tyrion saw Sansa approach her nephew and lean down on her knees to look into his eyes.

«I owe you an apology for how I behaved before, Rob,» the woman whispered, with a slight smile «I am Sansa, your aunt.»

«Are you the Queen in the North?» asked the child, having thought for a moment.

«I am.»

«No need to apologize, Your Grace.»

«No "Your Grace" to me, Rob,» she replied, accentuating her smile, «Not when we're in the family.»

The Hand watched his ex-wife carefully converse with her nephew, then his gaze was caught by the King's. He was staring him straight in the eye. He frowned, seeing Brandon Stark shift his gaze from Balerion's skull to his nephew and then back to him.

And he understood why the King had wanted him to show his nephew the dragon bones left at the keep.

Because if ever Drogon returned to seek revenge, the only one who could stop him was Rob.

* * *

The day after, accompanied by Lady Marya and one of his father's soldiers, Rob walked fascinated through the streets of King's Landing. The city was not very different from the ones he had seen up to that point: stalls and shops swarmed with goods on the sides of the streets, while the houses were in slightly narrower streets. Yet there was something different, perhaps given by the people who had a serene expression. The road they were travelling along turned into a large square, with a fountain in the middle; around it, children of his age chased each other, laughing.

«What are they doing?» he asked, looking up at the woman who accompanied him.

«They're playing,» replied Lady Marya, with a smile, «They spend time together while their parents work.»

Rob frowned, «Don't they study?»

«Studying?» she asked, puzzled.

«Yes,» he replied, «when Mom was busy on the ship, Maester Dawil kept me with him and had me read some books, or practise writing.»

«Few people here know well how to read or write,» replied Lady Marya, with a slightly sad smile, «and their children hardly have the opportunity to study,» she paused, looking at the children, «As long as they are so little, they let them play, then, in a few years, the males will begin to learn some profession, the females, instead, to keep the house.»

Rob looked back at the children, «I never played with kids of my age,» he whispered sadly.

«Never?» the woman asked in astonishment.

«Never,» he confirmed, «I always lived on a ship with adults, and when we docked I was always with Mom,» he looked at her, «can I go play with them?»

«Sure,» she replied after a while, with a smile, «We are waiting for you here.»

He smiled and approached the children slowly, «Excuse me.»

The little ones stopped abruptly, looking at him with wide eyes, then, when they realized who they were facing, they hastened to lower their eyes and make a slight bow of greeting.

«Can I... can I play with you?» Rob asked timidly.

The child who seemed the more grown-up in the group jerked his head up, looking at him in surprise.

The highborn children didn't play with lowborn ones, and instead, the heir of the House Baratheon was timidly asking them if he could play with them.

«As you wish.»

Rob's eyes lit up but, at the same time, a faint blush peeked over his cheeks, «But you have to explain to me the rules. I don't know them.»

The other smiled.

* * *

Gendry entered the throne room almost listlessly, observing the room around him, wishing with all his being to be in another place: the Councils were always a bit boring, and besides he had a strange feeling. While followed by Arya he went to sit in the place that had been shown to him around the large round table that had been placed in the centre of the room, he noticed a strange thing: the throne was no longer in the centre of the large raised platform, but it had been moved a little to the left. Not so much, but just enough to make the whole thing asymmetrical.

«What's up?» Arya whispered as she watched him sit beside her, her brow furrowed, revealing all her perplexity.

«I don't know exactly,» he said in a low voice, «there is something wrong. The throne has been moved.» he met the equally Ser Davos' confused look, who was sitting on the opposite side of him. He shook his head, making him understand that they would talk about it later, and let himself go against the back of his chair.

The other lords also arrived in a row, as they took their places at the table. Gendry had to hold back an amused grimace at the malevolent look that Arya threw at Yara Greyjoy as she settled down a couple of seats away from Davos. She had not forgotten the woman's idea of letting the Unsullied to kill her brother Jon.

Even Tyrion Lannister and Ser Brienne had arrived, only the King was missing.

«I would like to understand something,» the deep annoyed voice of a grey-eyed and brown-haired man made everyone turn towards him, «What is _she_ doing here?» he said, pointing with a finger to Arya who, in turn, stared at him in surprise, blinking several times her eyelids.

«Lady Arya is here as a representative of House Stark,» the Hand of the King intervened lapidary.

«The Stark is already represented by the King,» the man said, whom Gendry framed as one of the Westerlands. «Plus, the House Stark has no more reason to be represented, since the North is an independent kingdom,» he went on, without taking his eyes off the girl, «and, finally, she is no longer a Stark, but a Baratheon. And we already have a representative of the House.»

The man in question took a deep breath and closed his eyes, slightly amused.

_Three, two, one…_

«I would like to remind you, _my lord_ ,» replied Arya, hissing, with half-closed eyes, «that while you were quiet and safe in your keeps in the West, I planted this dagger,» she pulled out the weapon and slammed it violently on the table, «in the Night King's heart, saving all of you,» she paused briefly, «I have more right to be seated here than many of you who did not move a finger when the North or King's Landing needed help.»

After a long and heavy silence the man spoke, determined to have the last word, «And you, Lord Baratheon? Don't you say anything?»

Gendry sighed heavily and looked at him with a half-smile, «I just say it's not wise to stand between a wolf and its prey.»

Ser Davos bit his lip to not burst out laughing, which was what Lord Bronn did, while Lord Tyrion chuckled briefly, as did others.

Noise from a wheelchair made everybody fall silent. Driven by Ser Podrick, King Brandon Stark entered into the room, while the people present stood up from their chairs.

«Please, sit down,» the King replied in his usual colourless voice, taking his place at the only place left, between the Hand and the Captain of the Kingsguard.

«You may be wondering why I called this council,» he said, calmly, once everyone had seated, «as anyone present at the previous Council will remember,» he began to explain, scrutinizing the highborns one by one, «I didn't want to be King, but I accepted waiting for the mature time.»

«Mature?» asked Ser Davos, his brow furrowed.

«What do you mean, Your Grace?» asked Tyrion confused, and Gendry was surprised to find that the Imp was confused as well.

«The time for me to go back to being the memory of this world has come. I decided to abdicate.»

The shock hit everyone.

«I already have a name for who will succeed me,» he continued, impassively, «and, if you will think of it even just for a while, you will understand that it is the most logical and wise choice»

«And who would he be?» Sam asked in a low voice.

When Bran's eyes rested on him, Gendry knew he was screwed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it!


	12. A King's wish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reactions, quarrels and explanations...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so... the penultimate chapter.  
> It's so strange to post this chapter, when, months ago, this fic it was only a vague idea in my mind, I've never imagined that I 'll have the courage to post my first English fic, after years of not-writing... and now, we're almost to the end.  
> It's... weird, and, at the same time, funny.

At the exact moment when the King said Gendry's name, Tyrion saw the colour disappear quickly from the boy's face. Beside him, his wife seemed to have received a slap in the face.

The Hand leaned back in his chair, scrutinizing the young couple.

«It makes perfect sense,» he said, with a half-smile, «no one but him knows what the people's problems and needs really are. The only one approaching him is his wife, Arya,» he paused, taking turns looking at the various representatives of the Houses of the Six Kingdoms, «I know that many of you still doubt the Long Night actually took place, but I, like others at this table, lived and fought in it.» he looked back at the two, «If it wasn't for him who forged and taught to forge dragonglass weapons and for her who stabbed the Night King we would all be dead, or worse, and Westeros would be no more than a desolate frozen land.» he scratched his beard, pondering a little more, and returning a little later to look at the other people, many of whom, especially those who didn't know Gendry well, had a wary, some even hostile expression, «And don't pretend to not know what is said about him, or what happens in the Stormlands.»

Gendry felt himself blushing. He had done neither more nor less than he thought was right.

«I hope you are joking, Lord Tyrion,» hissed the same Lord who had first attacked Arya, «a bastard on the Throne of Westeros?» he continued, contemptuously, «Don't jok-»

 _Thunk_.

The dagger that until that moment was quietly placed on the table in front of the woman beside Gendry had been thrown with precision until it was planted in the back of the chair on which the Lord was sitting, the Valyrian steel touching the man's ear. His eyes widened, suddenly pale.

Arya didn't even look at him.

Sam Tarly sighed, «We were saying?»

«Right,» the Hand said, «Let's ask the opposite question,» he cleared his throat and stared in turn at all those present, «leaving aside _idiotic_ remarks like that one, find me just one reason why Lord Baratheon would not be worthy to that throne.»

 _Please find at least one..._ Gendry thought desperately. The last thing he wanted was to find himself occupying the place his father had held, very badly.

A long silence hovered in the room.

«I think this silence is quite eloquent,» said the Captain of the Kingsguard.

«I think so too,» said Ser Davos, then peering at the onlookers, «anyone against?»

 _Me,_ the young man said to himself, more and more uncomfortable.

No one spoke.

«Good,» said the King finally, «Lord Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End, Lord Paramount of the Stormlands and Warden of the South, will you lead the Six Kingdoms to the best of your abilities from this day until your last day?»

«I,» he began hesitantly, «I have to think about it.»

«Very well,» the King said, without taking his eyes off of him, «we'll meet here tomorrow to know your decision, Lord Baratheon, and voting.»

With a wave of his hand, he told Ser Podrick to accompany him out, while the other nobles rose from their chairs, glancing at Gendry who, with Arya at his side, still hadn't stopped staring at the table in front of him. 

Tyrion looked at the couple carefully. With a king like Bran Stark they didn't need more a Master of Whispers, but he had learned from Varys that having eyes and ears among the smallfolk was always a good thing. That morning those ears and those eyes had been useful: Gendry, Arya and their son had left the keep the day before, stopping in what was once Flea Bottom, where they had spent several hours, in the general enthusiasm. Since they had entered the city with the King, in the inns and taverns the main topic was them. Of course, there was the usual drunken chats about Lady Arya, speculations about how hot their nights were, some men who wouldn't scorn getting her laid, and they always received the same answer, «His father smashed Raeghar Targaryen's skull for taking from him the she-wolf Stark. You would have the same end... or it will be her who probably pass you by her sword, without waiting for her husband.»

But most of them wondered why the Baratheons had returned in the city in that way. How things had changed in the Stormlands since Gendry had arrived wasn't a secret to anyone in every corner of Westeros, and many hoped that the King would expand those new laws even in the Crownlands and force the other lords of the other kingdoms to do the same. King Bran was loved, he had raised the city from destruction, from first the Cersei's and after Daenerys' tyranny if she had had the chance to reign, but he was still a noble, born and raised in a palace, in the cold North, far away from the rest of the other Kingdoms. He hadn't had to roll up his sleeves to take home something to eat at the end of the day. People loved him, but they knew he couldn't understand them completely. Not as much as Gendry would have understood them, a boy born and raised in the poorest quarter of the capital, who had crossed the whole Westeros in terrible times and who, in the end, had taken over a land devastated also by Stannis Baratheon's fanatism and put back on its feet, taking an active part in that reconstruction, not only giving orders.

Tyrion woke up from his thoughts when he saw Arya jump up to follow her brother, slamming her shoulder against the lord she had quarrelled with before, but she didn't look at him. 

The Hand of the King stood up of his chair and stopped beside the man, «It seems you have chosen to tease the wrong people, my lord.»

* * *

Arya joined Bran in the middle of the hallway leading to the solar.

«What the hell did you think of, Bran?!» she shouted, furious, forgetting the etiquette. Her brother looked at her impassively, under Ser Podrick's embarrassed gaze.

«Let's talk inside, sister,» he answered only, motioning for the boy to continue, while the girl followed them furiously.

Once inside the solar and alone, Arya looked at him as if she wanted to tear him to pieces.

«What game are you playing, Bran?» she snarled furiously, «Five years ago you came to King's Landing from Winterfell to become King, you made Sansa Queen, making the North independent, you exiled Jon to please people who haven't even stayed here, you have named Gendry Warden of the South and now you say "Excuse me, I changed my mind, I'll abdicate" and expect him to take your place?!» her breathing had become heavy, «Which is your dark plan, this time?»

Bran stared at her impassively, «I exiled Jon because it was what he wanted, what was right for him,» he began calmly, making her eyes widen, «since he was a kid he wanted to reach the real North, but life brought him to South, and when he saw his men kill and rape innocent people and the woman he loved burning everyone indiscriminately he understood that this wasn't his place either. He did what he did because it was the right thing to do, Daenerys had surrendered, it was the only way to save her from herself. She didn't want to be the Queen of Ashes, but she became one because she lost her mind.

Like you, Jon also needed to find himself again. Your salvation was your son, his is being with his people,» he paused, «Jon isn't at the Black Castle, he is in the real North, far beyond the Wall, with Tormund, Ghost and the Free Folk, his people,» he looked carefully at his sister, who was staring at him, «Sansa has learned very well and at her own expense the Game of Thrones and the North is a realm almost as big as the others put together. It makes more sense to have it as an ally than as a submissive or, worse, as an enemy. You saw what happened to those who challenged the North. You did your part.»

«And Gendry?» she asked, with a faint voice, «Why did you make him Warden of the South?»

«Because he had to learn from the beginning to handle great responsibilities and to keep the other lords of the Stormlands in line. They would have crushed him immediately for his origins and for the fact that it was Daenerys who legitimized him. He hadn't much time, and he had to learn quickly,» he tilted his head slightly, «do you have so little faith in your husband?»

«That's not it,» Arya whispered nervously, «it's that...»

«You're afraid,» he interrupted her, «you fear he can fall victim to the Game of Thrones, you want to protect him, you want to protect your pack, and you're afraid you'll fail,» he paused, «look at what he did without you. He turned up-side-down the system in the Stormlands. To use Daenerys' words, he started to break the wheel. Imagine what you could do _together_ as rulers. You can expand the laws in all other kingdoms. I can't.»

«Do you want to give Gendry the throne so you can go back doing the other people's business without responsibility?» she hissed, getting angry again, «What a nice wish for a King...» she concluded, sarcastically.

«I'm not the King who wants an able and just Baratheon at the head of Westeros, with a strong woman beside him who can help him and advise him for the best,»

Arya frowned, «What…»

«King Robert considered Father his brother. He wanted desperately to join the Houses because he knew that Starks and Baratheons together would be what the Seven Kingdoms needed. Not tyrants like the Targaryens or treacherous like the Lannisters,» he paused, «as you see, I'm not the King who has this wish.»

Unable to argue, Arya turned determined to leave.

«Wait, sister,» she froze, her hand on the handle, «remember: Father was always right.»

The girl looked absently at the door in front of her.

_"Winter is coming."_

Winter had finally come. For the Targaryens, the Freys, the Lannisters and the White Walkers.

_"You’ll marry a King and rule his castle. Your sons will be knights, princes and lords."_

Arya opened the door, leaving the room.

And she had married a man of royal blood and - if Gendry would accept - a King.

* * *

Alone, sitting at the Small Council table, Gendry was leaning his head against the wood, trying to figure out what the Seven hells had happened.

 _Why_?

The door opened slowly and the boy jumped up: while a guard kept the door open, Ser Podrick pushed the wheelchair from which the King stared at him impassively.

«Leave us,» Bran said flatly, raising a hand but not taking his eyes off the man in front of him.

«Come on,» the young sovereign began, once they were alone, «I know you have questions, just ask.»

«Why me, Your Grace?» he whispered, «Why _us_?»

«Because you two have always been the logical and wisest choice,» he replied calmly, «Tyrion has hit the spot: if it weren't for you two, we would all be dead,» he paused, «and if you wanted to go on with the dynastic method, you alone have the right to the throne. You are the last Baratheon and the last Targaryen. Jon isn't a Targaryen, he's a Stark. He is ice, not fire and fury. Fortunately, you have the best legacy of the two Houses.»

Gendry remained silent, trying to digest what he was listening to.

«But five years ago, neither of you was ready,» he explained, impassively, «you didn't know what good ruling meant and Arya was broken. She had to heal and return herself. Rob helped her a lot.»

«But she couldn't return,» he objected, with a whisper, «She could die, she could decide to stay in the lands she discovered.» 

The King shook his head, «No, she would come back home anyway,» he paused, «it's difficult to look at the future. Too many variables combine to form it, it changes from time to time, based on the choices we make, but every time I looking at Arya's future, I saw her coming home, as I always saw you without a wife who wasn't her.

In any case, in every future I saw, King Robert's wish became true.»

Gendry remained silent, more and more anxious.

 _I don't know if I'll be able_ , he thought, biting his lip. _The Stormlands is one thing, but Six Kingdoms..._

Seeing his agitation and insecurity, Bran went on, «As you know, a kingdom is based on the people that make it up, most of which aren't lords or ladies. If the people are exploited, kept in poverty, not heard, sooner or later a rebellion will break out, it is inevitable, with the consequent loss of innocent lives.

Even other nobles can make wars break out, often for personal gain, but if on the other hand there are loved and respected sovereigns, they will never succeed in starting a revolt. Indeed, they could fall victim themselves.

Your father succeeded in his rebellion precisely because most of the Targaryens were tyrants: the Mad King burned Rickard Stark alive and forced his son Brandon to look until he strangled himself trying to escape and save his father only because they had gone to ask what happened to Lyanna. They were loved, and an unjust end like that caused the fury of the North. The North remembers and decided that Winter would come for House Targaryen,» he paused, waiting for Gendry to assimilate what he was saying to him, «you know very well how the Stormlands inhabitants consider you and many of them have the same mine thought: you would be a great King. This is why I wanted you and Arya to enter in King's Landing in that way, with Rob. My uncertain visions of the future or the voices and hopes in the taverns and inns were not enough for me. I had to see myself the reaction of the people of a city outside your jurisdiction, where you know as Lord only through stories brought by merchants and travellers,» he stared into his blue eyes, «and their reaction confirmed what I suspected from beginning: if five years ago, Sam's proposal had been accepted, the result would be this. You would have been in my place,»

Gendry bit his lip, nervously. He was afraid to fail... or his fear was cowardice?

«You will have the power to turn up-side-down the entire system.»

«Agree,» he said, with his eyelids half-closed, «but I have a condition. Not negotiable.»

Bran smiled.


	13. Long may they reign

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here we are. The last chapter. I'm feeling bitter.

Arya jerked her head up when she heard the heavy door of the bedroom open.

As soon as she left her brother, she had taken refuge in her and Gendry's room to reflect. She had just accepted to be the Lady of Storm's End, and, instead, now she risked to become Queen of the Six Kingdoms. She had never wanted power, perhaps because she had always seen it in a negative sense, and she had never thought about the positive aspects of it.

«You told him yes,» she whispered, looking at Gendry's serious expression.

He nodded.

«Yes,» he replied, «but I have set a condition.»

«Which one?»

He sat beside her on the bed, taking a deep breath, «That you will not be Queen Consort, but Queen.»

Arya frowned, «I don't understand.»

«I want you to officially have the same my duties and rights, my power,» he explained, «when I'll die, I want the Kingdom to continue with you and not that the Lords and Ladies of Westeros choose a new King or a new Queen.

Equal, even in front of others.»

Arya looked at him bewildered: Gendry was asking her something very difficult for someone like her, one who, until that moment, had only thought about the good of her pack, whatever it was in the various periods of her life. He was asking her not to simply rule his castle, but to share equally with him the weight of the responsibility of hundreds of thousands of people.

«Arya,» he said, taking her hands in his and looking into her eyes, «we have experienced on our skin how difficult it is to live on this continent. We have lived and fought a lot of wars. Bran is giving us the chance to avoid them, and to make the lives of the people better.» he moved a wisp of hair behind her ear, «Yesterday, your brother asked me what ideas I have for the Stormlands, and, if we'll become regents, we could also extend them to all other kingdoms. But I can't be the only one to formally hold the power if I want to do it. I need you,» he swallowed, «but if you don't want to, then I'll tell your brother no, and the Council will choose someone else.»

Arya thought about the people at that table, and she had a bad feeling. Some of them, like her uncle and her cousin, were too weak, others, like Yara, Bronn, the Prince of Dorne and that idiot of the Westerland, too selfish, who thought of the good only of their territories. Very few thought of the common good. Gendry's name had immediately agreed with them and, also, he had the people on his side, which prevented any uprisings.

If Gendry would say no, there could have been another war like the Five Kings' one.

She had no choice.

«We have to tell Rob.»

* * *

They found Rob in his room, with a servant helping him get dressed for dinner.

«M'lord, m'lady,» the girl whispered as soon as she noticed them, bowing.

«Neela,» Gendry whispered, smiling, «could you bring us dinner here? We would like to have dinner alone with Rob.»

«As you wish,» the girl replied, bowing and leaving the room.

Once the door was closed, the two walked towards their son, who was looking at them puzzled from the mattress he was sitting on.

«What's happening?»

Taking a look at each other, they sat down at the sides of the kid.

«We have to tell you something important,» Arya began, taking his hands between hers, «your uncle the King has proposed us to take his place.»

Rob frowned, thinking.

«Does that mean you can do what you want and everyone has to obey you?» He asked, remembering the speech his mother had given him before meeting the King for the first time.

«Well, not exactly,» Gendry said, with a slight smile, «we can do what's good for people, what helps them live better, and _convince_ other Lords and Ladies to do the same.»

«Like a place where all children can play together and study?» He asked, after a long silence.

«What?» Arya questioned, her brow furrowed.

«Today I went around the city with Lady Marya,» he explained, swinging his legs, «in a square there were children of my age who played, and, to my question about why they didn't study, she explained to me that few know to write and read well and that, in a few years, their parents would have taught them trades or how to keep the house,» he paused, «They taught me to play with them and I thought it was nice to be able to play and study together.»

«A bit like the Water Gardens of Dorne.»

Gendry smiled, ruffled Rob's hair and kissed him on the head, «This is a nice idea.»

* * *

As the day before, King Bran was the last to arrive at the Council in the throne room, but with the difference that, besides Ser Podrick, there were also Gendry and Arya. Everyone took their place at the table, in general silence.

«My lords, my ladies,» Bran began calmly, staring at them one by one «Lord Baratheon accepted my proposal yesterday, but on one condition,» he paused, noting the confused looks of many at that table, «That his wife Arya will not be Queen Consort but Queen, with equal powers, duties and rights. At his death, a new Council will not be called to elect a successor, but the kingdom will continue with my sister.»

No one spoke for a long time, each one immersed in their thought.

«Only voting remains,» the King resumed, breaking the heavy silence that had been created, «Do you agree to elect Lord and Lady Baratheon as my successors?»

* * *

«Master Garris! Master Garris!»

The blacksmith turned, perplexed, noting his apprentice Erys running toward him with an excited look. He had sent him to the market to buy something to eat and instead he was returning empty-handed.

«What's happening?» he asked, a little brusquely, «Why didn't you bring anything to eat?»

«I'm sorry,» he answered, stopping in front of him and taking a deep breath, while the others smiths came near, «but I heard important news. I thought you wanted to hear it.»

Garris frowned and he leaned against the work-bench, looking at him perplexed, «What is it?»

«The King,» he started, still breathing heavily, «the King has abdicated.»

«WHAT?»

The dismay was general, except for the oldest of the group, Nicah, who had returned just the day before from the keep; he had narrowed his eyes slightly, reflecting.

«The Council has elected who'll be the next. The coronation will be next week.»

The smith cursed under his breath: why the Seven hells had King Bran abdicated since he was a good ruler? He had never lived well under the past sovereigns, things had only improved in the last five years... and instead, they risked returning to the beginning: absolute uncertainty.

«And who the Seven hells did those bloody high-borns choose?» he muttered, visibly annoyed. 

His young apprentice smiled radiantly, leaving him appalled, «Lord and Lady Baratheon.»

«Are you kidding me?» he asked, shocked, «Gendry? King?»

«No, Master Garris. I'm not kidding.» he hastened to say, biting his lip.

«Now things have a sense.»

Everyone present turned to Nicah, who was cleaning his hands in a towel.

«What?»

«When the other blacksmiths and carpenters and me were called to the keep a month ago, we did a second throne and two crowns,» he shook his head slightly, «we asked the forge master what was happening, but he brought back to us what he had been told by the King, that we would understand for ourselves in due time,» he ran a hand through his hair, while outside, in the street, there were agitated and cheerful voices: the news had started spreading, «we thought maybe the King wanted to get married,» he went on, «that's why he needed another throne.»

«And the two crowns?»

«For the biggest one, we only made its sketch. Only a partial mould was made.» he sighed, «The other was smaller, visibly feminine, with carved wolves... another thing that made us think about the fact that he wanted to get married.»

Silence fell, broken by Erys after a few minutes, «And now? What will happen?». 

Nicah smiled, approaching the boy and ruffling his brown hair, «Something beautiful, I think...»

* * *

With his aunt's hands on his shoulders, Rob watched his parents slowly climb the stairs that separated them from the two thrones. Waiting for them, on one side was Ser Brienne, Grand Master Samwell Tarly and Ser Podrick, on the other side, his uncle Bran, Lord Tyrion Lannister and Ser Davos.

The clothes that the couple was wearing were very beautiful and specular. The shape of his father's cloth was the same as that with which he had seen it in his Lord's clothes, but the fabric was black velvet with golden embroidery. His mother, on the other hand, wore a sort of dress. The corset left her shoulders completely uncovered and the skirt was a train, but open at the front, showing that she had trousers of the same fabric underneath: gold with black embroidery. The neckline, the ends of the wrists and the edge of the skirt were adorned with a small layer of grey fur, the same one that adorned three kinds of claw marks decorated the two shoulders of his father's jerking. Rob looked over at their hands: he had taken the fingers of his mother's hand and held it up to his shoulder.

«They're beautiful, aren't they?» his aunt Sansa whispered, leaning toward him and whispering in his ear.

«Yes, they are,» he replied, watching the two turn slowly and sit on the two thrones.

In the general silence, Ser Davos took a simple steel crown, with several small carved deer, from the red pillow placed on Bran's legs and approached Gendry, stopping in front of him, «Lord Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End, Lord Paramount of the Stormlands and Warden of the South, will you lead the Six Kingdoms to the best of your abilities from these days until your last day?»

«I will.»

Ser Davos put the crown on his head and stepped aside, while Ser Brienne approached Arya and stood in front of her, with the wolf crown in her hands.

«Lady Baratheon,» she started, «Princess in the North and Princess of the Six Kingdom, Lady of Storm's End, will you lead the Six Kingdoms to the best of your abilities from these days until your last day?»

«I will.»

The Captain of the Kingsguard replied the same gesture of Ser Davos and step aside.

Lord Tyrion walked in the centre of the platform, looking at the crowd, «All hail Gendry the Smith and Arya the Bringer of the Dawn, Firsts of their name, King and Queen of the Andals and the Firsts Men, Lord and Lady of the Six Kingdoms and Protectors of the Realm.

Long may they reign!»

* * *

Bryen looked smiling at the crowned stag waving on King's Landing. The atmosphere they breathed was no longer that of the uncertainty that characterized the passage between one King and another, there was not the usual question that hovered. _«Will he be a better or worse ruler? Will we suffer more or less?»_

Bryen sighed: he was well aware that he would die under this new kingdom, he had lived for a long time... but he was happy, he knew he would leave his daughter and his grandchildren in a better world than the one they had lived in until then. King Gendry and Queen Arya would fight with their nails and teeth, not for their own houses, but for the people who they knew better than any other lord and lady.

They would have remained faithful to their words.

_Winter is coming._

_Ours is the fury._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading until the end, I hope you liked it.  
> I write a one-shot set years after this epilogue, you'll find at that link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21121736  
> Again, thank you.

**Author's Note:**

> After the finale episode, I was really upset, because all of these has no sense. The arcs of the characters were thrown out of the window without respect.  
> So I've started thinking of how would be the life after that, specially the Arya's and Gendry's life. In the most of fan fictions that I've read (Thanks God for their existence), the Gendry's reaction of Arya's come back is good... If I were him, I've been really, really angry. So, don't expect a happy reunion (at least, at the beginning)
> 
> This is my first fanfiction written in English, so probably there are some mistakes. If you find one or more I'd like to know, so I can improve.
> 
> Ah, this is the link for my Tumblr https://www.tumblr.com/blog/nikelaos87


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